


Stigma

by jaokn



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Trauma, Corruption, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Allies, False Utopia, Gen, Graphic Violence, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mark Yerim and Yukhei are the gang, Rebellion, anyways now for some happy tags, i can only write angst im so sorry, i guess?, i'm not sure if it's considered "graphic" but i'm tagging it anyways, same for 00 line, there will be happy parts though!, yeah this is gonna include some really heavy topics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2019-08-20 20:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 39,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16562867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaokn/pseuds/jaokn
Summary: In a world where your social status is determined based on a simple DNA test at birth, Mark and Donghyuck could be no further opposites. They live in what are essentially two different worlds, but suddenly those worlds clash together in a revolutionary test of trust, of love, and of simple humanity- and their lives will never be the same.





	1. ONE

**Author's Note:**

> alright so i decided i'm gonna post the first chapter of this and see how it goes. i've had this idea in my head for a while and it started as just wanting to write a 00 line fic but now it's spiraled into something so much bigger wowie. i don't know how long this is going to end up being- currently i am working on the fourth chapter and it's already past 18k and since i also have the entire thing planned out i know i have a lot more to write, a LOT more. 
> 
> i don't know how frequent updates will be- i'm currently in the midst of applying to college so there may be long periods of time where i don't have any time to write. like i said, i'm working on the fourth chapter right now, so i'm a little bit ahead!
> 
> also to note- this hasn't been edited by anyone but me, so please tell me if there's any spelling/grammar mistakes i didn't notice! yeah anyways here it is- i hope you like it!

_Breathe._

 

His chest was heaving, he couldn’t remember the last time he had ever run that fast.

 

_Breathe, Donghyuck, breathe._

 

It was raining, the cold droplets running through his deep brown strands of hair, down his face and dripping into his mouth as he gasped desperately for breath, his head tilted upwards towards the dark sky. His eyes, shut tightly, were wild underneath his eyelids, amidst an onsetting panic causing his hands to tremble.

 

He had fallen against a brick wall, hidden among the shadows of the alleyway and the presence of a grimey old trash bin. The air was thin and, besides the reeking odor of the garbage, he could smell a hint of a bakery down the street, it’s doors now wide open as Donghyuck heard the officer questioning its owners if they had seen him or any of his accomplices come that way. The smell of sweet cakes and cookies and other delicacies seemed almost cruel, and Donghyuck wondered for a moment when the last time he had ever had something like that before.

 

He couldn’t remember.

 

As he sat there, trying to heave in breaths while staying quiet, he didn’t know what he was more scared of- the officer himself, his sleek black uniform parading down the street and swinging around his taser in all its glory, or the fact that he had absolutely no clue where his friends had ended up. He didn’t know if they had been caught and were being dragged away to face whatever horrid punishment would be given in the name of “peace and justice”, or if they had managed to get out of the district, slip out of the city unnoticed and safe. He didn’t know.

 

It had begun like any other normal night- stuffing the paint cans into Renjun’s backpack, Jaemin double checking the security cameras and then whining that he never got to go with them as per usual. It was a risky practice- slipping through the irregularity in the fence that thankfully no one had come to notice yet, hiding in the sleeping city’s shadows unnoticed while they marked up a few walls speaking their protest. It was all they could do- the people within the city didn’t listen to the ones cast outside unless it ended up with their pristine white buildings touched with unwanted color. It was supposed to be a normal night- one minute, he was carrying out the same old business rattling up the cans of spray paint and stretching his arms far and wide to make big, bold letters, watching Renjun and Jeno do the same. _Hear Us,_ he wrote.

 

Or was supposed to write.

 

Everything went wrong the moment Donghyuck heard the yelling of an officer that wasn’t supposed to be there and a flashlight revealing his face for the whole world to see. His heart dropped to his stomach and the only thought that was fully processing in his head was screaming at him to _run_.

 

He didn’t know where the other two had ended up. It all happened too fast. They could be anywhere, anywhere at all. It had all gone wrong, so terribly wrong, and Donghyuck wanted to scream. He couldn’t tell if he was crying or if it was just the countless amount of raindrops that were running down his face, but either way he felt terrible. He felt like he was about to vomit.

 

But he couldn’t. He didn’t have the time. He had to get out of there, because sooner or later the officer will have checked behind every trash bin in every alley and he had to make damn sure he wasn’t behind any of them.

 

He clasped his hands together, attempting to stop them from trembling so much. “Just breathe,” he whispered to himself, closing his eyes for just a moment so that maybe he could calm himself down- even if just a little bit- before he had to get up and beeline out of there. In the rain. In the dark.

 

The footsteps of the officer’s boots on the wet concrete sidewalk was becoming more and more defined by the second, sending chills down Donghyuck’s spine every time they got closer. His heart was pounding and he was sure the officer would be able to hear it. He was so fearful. He’d never been in this kind of situation before but he knew all too well the tales of people like him in the hands of the city’s government. It was enough to keep all but a few a safe distance from even the fence itself. And he almost regretted it for a moment, wishing that he had chosen to live in safety, but then he remembered that if he didn’t do what he did, there wouldn’t be many willing to take his place.

 

Closer. Too close for comfort now. Donghyuck could almost hear the officer’s breathing over the patter of the rain on the trash bin’s lid. Maybe he wouldn’t notice, maybe he would move on and check somewhere else.

 

He wouldn’t.

 

In a split moment, Donghyuck knew. He knew he had to go. So before he could even mentally prepare himself to be up again he was on his feet, head poking around the trash bin to eye a clear line of escape. With a shaky breath, he clenched his fists with every scrap of determination left in him.

 

And he ran.

 

_\-------_

 

“So, what are you doing for your final project?”

 

Mark turned his gaze away from his locker, towards the girl leaning against the one next to his, her eyebrows raised almost sarcastically. Yerim, her arms crossed questioningly as she waited for him to give a response.

 

“I already said,” Mark tried to avoid the question, in attempt to hide his embarrassment. He didn’t want to admit that he actually _didn’t_ know, at least not in that class- where everyone was expecting the mayor’s son to do something big and grand as his final project before he went off to some prestigious university. That’s what everyone expected of him, and if he had admitted there, in front of the guidance teachers and his peers, that he actually had no idea where he was even supposed to start, he would of suffered too much embarrassment.

 

So of course he’d made up some half-believable excuse that he and his father were still discussing his options, but Yerim knew him too well to know that he was a terrible liar. Of course she did.

 

“Don’t bullshit me, Mark, I want to know for real. You _do_ know that the final pitch for your project has to be in by the end of this week right?” she countered him, joining his side as he closed his locker and began to make his way to the front doors.

 

“I have time, don’t worry,” Mark laughed it off, shrugging his shoulders.

 

“Mark, it’s Wednesday.”

 

Mark let out a small groan, his thumbs latching onto his backpack straps while his other fingers flailed about in frustration. “I _know_ , I just really don’t know, you know?”

 

Yerim held in a laugh, practically watching steam come out of Mark’s head as he tried to contemplate what he was supposed to do. Mark knew he couldn’t just do something small and lame, however with the time left he had, he wasn’t sure that he could scheme something as grand as everyone was expecting.

 

“What are you doing?” Mark glanced up from the ground, hoping Yerim would give him some sort of inspiration to start. If he was being truthful he hadn’t been listening to everyone else’s responses as he was trying to make one up himself, so he had missed what Yerim stated as hers.

 

“Me? If you’d been listening, I’m making a documentary thing on the Perfect system,” Yerim replied with ease, not failing to show Mark she had obviously thought everything through many days prior. “I’ve always been interested in the actual science behind it, since they never really went in depth about it in school. And, you know, my mom.”

 

“Ah,” Mark nodded in approval. “That’ll be interesting.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “Wait, since when do you have editing skills to do a documentary?”

 

“I have friends to help me,” she boasted to him, giving him a wide grin. “Because I’m actually not a loser like you and have more than one friend.”

 

Mark opened his mouth in shock. “I _do_ have more friends than you!”

 

Yerim stopped them both after walking in front of Mark, twisting around so that she was facing him in the middle of the school yard they had arrived in, mobs of other students walking by in hurried footsteps. “Oh really? Name one.”

 

Mark scratched the back of his head, suddenly at a loss for words. He really did believe there were others, he did, but the more he truly thought about it the more he found himself in the same place, trying not to catch Yerim’s “I told you so” gaze being casted upon him with her full aura.

 

After a while of painful silence Mark was ready to admit defeat to her, and he was about to lift his head to meet her eyes, but as he did his gaze caught attention of something else, something more pressing over Yerim’s shoulder.

 

A group of boys, boys Mark knew to be part of the crowd he should stay away from- the kind of boys who would probably annoy Mark if it wasn’t for his status as the mayor’s son, and the kind of boys who would probably whistle at Yerim in the hallways if Mark wasn’t always at her side. There they were in their full glory, following around a single boy who was easily taller than all of them but wore a yellow wristband that made him so small. They were marching behind him with eyes that reeked of malicious intent and Mark knew that the minute they followed the boy out of school grounds they were free of the act they had to put up as good students. Mark knew.

 

“You okay?” Yerim waved a hand in front of his eyes to break his stare. “Is it really that hard to think of someone?”

 

“Yerim, they’re following him,” Mark uttered, gesturing for her to turn around. She did, her eyes cluttered with confusion. But as she focused her gaze to where Mark had pointed her eyes became settled, sparked with an almost frustration.

 

“They’re so low,” she muttered with distaste lingering on her tongue. “Why can’t they leave the poor boy alone, he’s got it bad already.”

 

“They’re going to do something, just look at them,” Mark agonized over whether he should do something. His gut told him to go and stop them but what could he do? Tell them to go away?

 

“Dude, if you just step in before him they won’t touch him. You _do_ know your power, right?” Yerim reminded him, poking at his ribcage. “I’ll go with you if you’re too scared.”

 

“No, it’s fine,” Mark denied her offer, giving her a look of trust. He knew she would, but like she said he did have power. They wouldn’t dare touch him with the wrath of the entire city’s government behind him. So that’s all he had to do- stand in front of the boy, maybe make it seem like they’re friends anyways.

 

But then again, they probably wouldn’t believe that the son of the city’s mayor was friends with an Imperfect.

 

\-------

 

_Shit!_

 

Donghyuck was screaming in his head. He was an idiot. He was the stupidest person alive. He should of waited- his adrenaline had taken hold of him and if he had been in his right mind he probably wouldn’t of ran that soon. Now, now it was all going to shit.

 

“I said _stop!”_ the officer behind him yelled furiously, mere meters behind Donghyuck. If he lost any speed he was dead meat and both of them knew it.

 

So he persisted- through wet streets full of puddles undisturbed until he splashed through them, unbothered by the fact that his boots were now sopping wet. It didn’t matter. He had a dry pair at home he could use. _If_ he got home.

 

The officer was tireless, too. Donghyuck started to question if they gave their officers some sort of steroid in the city because he never seemed to waver in his gaits, even when Donghyuck found himself getting dangerously close to tiring.

 

It was almost hopeless. He couldn’t just run straight to the irregularity in the fence- he had to shake off the officer before that or else he would lead everyone else to danger. However, he didn’t know if he held enough stamina left to be able to lose the officer _and_ get back to the irregularity, because with every passing step he brought himself further and further away, deeper and deeper into the city. He wasn’t even sure if he was in the same district anymore.

 

After what seemed like hours he began to gain on the officer as he pushed himself harder, the thought of just getting home acting as his motivation. The screams of the man were becoming further, even if it wasn’t by much. It was something. It was a glimmer of hope. It was-

 

Donghyuck was too focused on what was behind to notice what was in front of him. He only noticed Renjun’s voice calling his name once it was too late to stop himself, bringing a full-on collision with the other boy as he had stepped out of an alleyway. It knocked all his breath out of him and sent him sprawling to the ground, his back hitting it first in a shallow puddle and his eyes suddenly staring at the sky instead of his escape route.

 

He couldn’t breathe. He had been running so fast, he couldn’t breathe for what seemed like minutes, desperately gasping for air to return to him as he lay on the ground in shock.

 

But as he was finally able to function again, it was already too late.

 

He heard Renjun’s screams as clear as day, and when he lifted his head slightly to look in front of him he saw his friend struggling against the officer who was easily twice his size, trying to twist himself out of his grip in futile attempts of escape. And Donghyuck wanted nothing more but to get up and help, but his dazed body could only move so quickly.

 

As Donghyuck was able to roll over to his side, attempting to prop himself up on his elbow, the officer already had Renjun pinned to the ground, his identifier device in his right hand as his left grabbed Renjun’s hair, steadying his head so that the identifier could read the chip behind his ear that every person alive had.

 

And then the identifier glowed red onto the officer’s face in the deep night, and Donghyuck could hear him mutter “I thought so” to himself with a sort of wicked pride to his voice. And then he brought out his fist and made sure that Renjun wouldn’t move while he made his way to Donghyuck. And Donghyuck knew- he knew that the office didn’t have to do that to him, there were other ways to keep Renjun from running, but he chose to because his glow was neither green nor yellow but red, a connotation that brought fear to everyone living in the sleeping city even if they didn’t know why.

 

As the officer approached Donghyuck could feel himself shaking as his body didn’t respond the way he wanted it to, the way he _needed_ it to. All he felt was the wave of fear crashing upon him. The only thing he could do was weakly kick at the man as he came within his range. But he knew he couldn’t stop him, not in this state at least. He was only delaying the inevitable. He almost didn’t resist the man as he grabbed him off the ground, except that he attempted to push him around a bit just to prove he wasn’t surrendering to him. The officer checked him, the identifier now glowing yellow back at him as he put it away for a final time.

 

By the time the officer had dragged him around enough to stand, reinforcements had already arrived- two other officers who seemed to be under the other’s control, as they immediately went to Renjun as soon as the other beckoned them to.

 

And Donghyuck watched, his eyes full of guilt and regret, as they practically peeled the boy off the ground, not even bothering to put him in handcuffs yet because he could barely stand. It was all his fault. It was his fault because if he had even had the common sense to look where he was going he could of seen Renjun in time, he could of just grabbed him by the arm instead and they could of ran together to the fence, get back home and laughed about it around a fire. But now Donghyuck didn’t want to think of what happened next. As he was put in the back of the officer’s car, a barely conscious Renjun leaning against his shoulder and shivering because of the cold rain, he didn’t want to think of what came next.

 

“Yes, we caught two of them,” he heard the officer say outside his door. “I think there was another, but if there was they’re probably long gone by now.” He paused, the booming voice on the other end sending chills down Donghyuck’s spine, making him reach for Renjun’s hand to assure himself he wasn’t alone. “One Unperfect and one Imperfect. So I guess you were right in assuming they were from outside the city.”

 

Suddenly the door was slammed shut and all Donghyuck could hear now was the patter of the rain against the glass window. He heaved in a deep sigh, his breath uneven as he let it out. He closed his eyes, deciding to focus his mind on Renjun’s steady breathing than the panic raging inside his head.

 

And that was it.

 

That was how everything went wrong.

 

\-------

 

“You’re really lucky, aren’t you?”

 

Mark could hear the snickers of the boys as he and Yerim got closer and closer to them- they had stopped their target within an alleyway right outside the school, and thankfully the two had managed to follow them unheeded. Yerim’s hand was placed on his shoulder, not lifted ever since they left school grounds. She refused to leave Mark alone- even though he had denied her offer of assistance she was stubborn enough to tag along anyways.

 

“Your parents must really be crazy enough to keep you, huh?” one of them taunted. “Who in the right mind would actually keep an Imperfect son?”

 

“Either that or they’re too full of pity for people like you,” another added on. “It’s sad, really.”

 

“Mark, when are you going to go?” Yerim abruptly whispered into his ear, almost making him jump. He turned his attention away from them for a moment to face her, curling his lips in as he thought.

 

“You- you have to stay here, first,” he finally uttered back after he had sorted everything out in his head, placing his hands on her shoulders.

 

“I’ll stay here,” Yerim muttered in response, squinting her eyes at Mark questionably. “You really going to be alright by yourself?”

 

“I’ll be fine,” Mark assured her. He then rose from his place next to Yerim, letting go of a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. He knew he wasn’t the best at acting. He knew that was one of his faults- but suddenly there he was.

 

“Yo, what’s going on here?” Mark worked his hardest to project his voice as he walked up to the scene, the boys turning around with looks of annoyance starting to rise. Mark tried to ignore them, instead centering his attention on the boy they had cornered against a wall. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, you were supposed to meet me at the gates so we could go study.”

 

Mark could tell he just sent the boy into a mind of confusion, but he prayed that he would catch along at some point or another. His heart was in his throat then as he directed his focus on the rest of them, their looks of doubt all too obvious.

 

“You know him?” one of them challenged him, taking a step towards him.

 

“Of course,” Mark made up as he went. “We’re- we’re study partners.”

 

“Well what’s his name then, huh?” the boy laughed. “Last time I recalled you two weren’t in the same class.”

 

Mark opened his mouth to respond, but he knew he couldn’t. He found the boy’s eyes and tried, he tried to recall if he knew, but the truth was they weren’t in the same class and Mark had almost never interacted with him until now.

 

That was when he felt himself start to panic, because it had already been a few seconds and soon they would know he was bluffing. How stupid, he really hadn’t thought it through enough to know-

 

“Wong Yukhei?”

 

Mark turned around to see Yerim walking up to him in the most casual way possible, resting her elbow on his shoulder and giving the boys in front of her an almost pitiful look. “He forgot to mention that I’m a part of this study group too, didn’t he? Gosh, I’m always at the back of his mind, aren’t I? I saw him running off from the gates and I thought he was blowing me off, you know?”

 

Mark watched her in awe as she kept talking to them as if she had known them for years, just making simple conversation like it was the easiest thing in the world. And then he looked up to see Yukhei, still behind the boys, almost smiling too.

 

“But anyways,” Yerim said in a louder tone, catching Mark’s attention again. “We have to get home by a certain time or else his father’s gonna come looking for him. You all know who he is, right? I don’t think he’s going to be happy if he sees you guys holding us all up. We’re studying to get into some very prestigious universities here.”

 

Once she was done talking everyone was utterly quiet, no one really knowing exactly what to do. That is, until Mark felt Yerim jab him in his foot with her shoe, and he knew then he had to say something.

 

“If you don’t mind, we’ll be leaving,” Mark stuttered out, motioning for Yukhei to follow him. “Come on, we have studying to do.”

 

Yukhei nodded at him and took a step forward to follow the two, however as he did one of the boys stretched out his hand to shove him back, making both Mark and Yerim jump at its abruptness.

 

“Hey, I’m serious. We need to go, can you just let us leave?” Mark chimed, grabbing Yerim’s hand tightly. “I don’t want any trouble.”

 

“We don’t either,” the boy in front said to him, practically spitting in his face. “You and your girlfriend can study without him, right? What does an Imperfect got to study for?”

 

Mark could feel the tension rising, and he knew he had to do something, whatever it was it had to be fast. He glanced at Yerim, her eyes as confused and anxious as his, and she gave him the look of _do something right now or so help me_ that Mark had seriously hoped he didn’t have to receive.

 

And with that, suddenly he found himself walking forward, leaving Yerim behind and putting blind trust in his status that the boys wouldn’t touch him. He kept his eyes down and he could hear his pulse in his ears, however it worked. They only brushed his shoulders, and soon Mark found himself right in front of Yukhei.

 

“Let’s go,” Mark tried to hide the shakiness of his voice as he stretched his hand out. He could see the hesitation in Yukhei’s eyes but he tried with all his might to project calmness and assurance through his own. It must of worked, because Yukhei eventually took his hand and leaned off of the wall, giving Mark a slight nod only he could notice.

 

With that Mark turned around to venture his way back, only to be stopped again by the barricade the boys had formed around them. Mark sighed to himself, tapping his free hand against his pants anxiously. When would they learn to let it go?

 

“Where do you think you’re going?” the boy was practically breathing down his neck, his voice almost taunting him to take another step forward.

 

“I’m-”

 

Mark didn’t have time to speak, because suddenly a familiar silver car pulled up on the curb, its tinted window in no delay making its way down to reveal a familiar face to every single one of them.

 

“Mark!” his father yelled at him, waving his hand for him to make his way to him.

 

Mark looked back at the boy in his face, giving him the most stern look he could as he pushed him out of the way, dragging Yukhei behind with a firm grip. As he approached Yerim he saw her waving her phone, giving him a knowing smirk as he mouthed a thank you to her. He then grabbed her hand with his free one, not daring to look back at the boys in fear of provoking them. He just wanted out, and his anxious steps carried the three of them out of the alleyway and into his father’s car quicker than his own thoughts.

 

“Who’s this?” his father interrogated him as Mark pulled the door closed behind the three of them. His father signaled the driver to go, and Mark let out a huge sigh as he felt the car lurch forward, quickly ushering them away from any dangers.

 

“He’s a friend. We’re-” Mark stopped to look back at Yukhei, watching as the boy took everything in himself as well, but also noticing how he was cleverly hiding his yellow wristband behind Yerim’s back. “We’re study partners.”

 

“Well,” his father quickly dismissed it. “I have great news.”

 

“Oh?” Mark entertained him, even though he could care less about whatever news his father had now concocted. All he could keep thinking about was how close that boy’s face was to his and how in over his head he was. If Yerim hadn’t called-

 

“I have your project finalized,” his father halted his thoughts. Mark saw Yerim’s head tilt up towards Mark, her eyes squinted in question.

 

“You do?” Mark said uneasily, suddenly feeling awkward while his father openly conversed with him in front of Yerim and Yukhei. It wasn’t like he was embarrassed by him, per se- more like his father was always more of the mayor whenever he was around anyone else besides Mark, and whenever he acted like his father rather than the mayor around everyone it always felt awkward.

 

And of course, he still hadn’t spoken a word to Yukhei yet, and there he was sitting in the back of the mayor’s car.

 

“Yes, of course,” his father stated matter-of-factly, as he pulled out a few papers from the dashboard and handed them to Mark.

 

They were police papers, official papers, of a boy, seemingly around his age, with a pretty angry looking mug shot. Mark flipped through the papers, becoming more and more confused as to why they were in his hands when discussing his final project.

 

“What are these…?” Mark trailed off, raising his head to meet his father’s gaze.

 

“You are going to help this rouge Imperfect establish citizenship,” his father declared, his face beaming as if it was the best thing he had ever presented to anybody. “That will be your final project!”

 

Mark stared at him, his mouth agape, unsure if he even heard his father properly. He then pinned his eyes down at the papers again, back on the boy’s face, then back to Yerim, who mouthed an _I don’t know_ to him while her face was hidden by the seat in front of her. Finally, Mark focused back on his father, still caught in the whirlwind of confusion his mind currently was.

 

“You’ll meet him in a few days after he's fully processed,” his father told him. “I already discussed this with your counselors at school, they agree it’s a wonderful project for universities to see.” He paused, glancing back at Yerim and Yukhei. “We can discuss this further when we arrive home.”

 

Mark fell back in his seat, at a loss for words. Help this guy? A criminal? All for simply his final project?

 

How could anything more today go any wrong?


	2. TWO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so comes the second chapter!! hopefully you guys are liking it so far- in this one there's more world-building and character building that i'm excited forrrr but anyways here it is!

“Why are they different?”

 

Mark turned his head slightly to glance at Yerim, her hand raised high even though she had no patience to wait for their teacher to call on her. The teacher looked away from his board, which was projecting an image depicting three basically drawn humans: one shaded green on top, the next shaded yellow in the middle, and the last shaded red on the bottom. One would of thought it was a traffic light if they had ran past the classroom. 

 

“Miss Kim, I don’t believe I called on you.”

 

Their Year Five teacher wasn’t the nicest one Mark had the pleasure of being taught by. Rumors around the school claimed him as he only mean teacher across all the grades, and of course Mark had been stuck with him for his fifth year. However, today he seemed to be in an exceptionally bad mood- whether it be the topic of discussion or something that had happened this morning. Whatever it was, as the day had progressed he had gotten grumpier and grumpier and now he seemed genuinely angry. Resentful, almost.

 

Mark watched Yerim scrunch her nose in defiance. “I was just curious, sir.”

 

The classroom of young students broke out in soft giggles, much to their teacher’s distaste. He sharply clapped his hands together twice to cut through the laughter, snapping the student’s attention back in an instant. They all sat rigid in their desks, painfully aware of the tense atmosphere now rising.

 

The teacher then gave a sigh, bringing his old, scrawny hand up to the board next to the green figure. “Yerim, like I have already explained, there are three categories people are sorted into. This one is Perfect, like all of you.” He stopped short to quickly scan the room. “I don’t believe there are any exceptions here. Next,” he moved his hand down to the yellow figure, “are the Imperfects. Not Perfect, but not Unperfect. Some live in the city, however most live in the outskirts. It’s all depend on their parents’ decision to raise an Imperfect child or not.” He then slid his hand down again, stopping to the side of the red figure. “Last is Unperfect. They all live in the outskirts, no exceptions. Got it?”

 

Mark could see Yerim was not satisfied by the spark still lit in her eyes. “But sir,” she pushed on, “how exactly are we different? What makes us different than an Unperfect?”

 

“It’s your DNA,” the teacher repeated himself, beginning to walk towards Yerim now. “Long ago scientists discovered a gene that could help us determine who would be more useful to society and who wouldn’t. Make sense?”

 

He was at Yerim’s desk now, looming above her with an unpleasant aura. Mark observed the two anxiously, taking note of how Yerim still held her head high as she spoke once more.

 

“What gene, specifically?”

 

There were hushed whispers that went around the classroom, although Mark stayed dead silent. He instead observed Yerim’s determined eyes almost challenge their teacher’s, who seemed anything but happy about the current situation. Mark was practically seated on the complete other side of the room, however he could feel the atmosphere surrounding the two as if he were right next to them. He knew Yerim was curious because this was her mother’s work, however he couldn’t help but wish for her to drop the subject so it didn’t feel like the room was on the verge of erupting. He didn’t like tension and conflict like this.

 

Their teacher finally broke the stiff standoff first, leaning in closely so that he obstructed Mark’s view of Yerim’s face as he spoke in a hushed voice. Mark tried to shift his position at his desk so that he could see, but yielded no results. 

 

“Right,” the teacher suddenly pulled himself back up, turning on his heel and making his way to the front of the class, leaving Yerim alone and looking quite annoyed. “Any more questions?”

 

No one dared to speak. The room was eerily quiet.

 

“Okay,” the teacher sighed, turning the projector off. “The rest of class is yours. The bell will ring in a few minutes.”

 

As if something heavy had been lifted off the entire classroom, students began to stand and stretch, engage in conversation with their neighbors. It became as bubbly and carefree as a Year Five class should be again, as if what had just occurred didn’t happen at all. It was odd, to say the least.

 

Mark, of course, gathered his things and trotted over to Yerim’s desk for the last couple minutes of the school day, sitting himself on top of her desk while the teacher wasn’t looking.

 

“What did he say?” Mark inquired, gazing down at Yerim who was diligently  packing her belongings into her school bag, not regarding Mark in the slightest- however Mark could sense her angry fumes radiating off her like a fire.

 

“He’s awful,” Yerim stated blatantly, only breaking her concentration on her bag to give the teacher’s back a risky glare. “He said he wants to see me after class. As if I’m staying any longer today for him.”

 

“Maybe he’s gonna give you insiders’ information,” Mark tried to calm the situation. “You never know.”

 

“Yes Mark, I  _ do _ know, he’s just going to lecture me or something,” Yerim finally placed her bag loudly on her desk, then leaning back into her chair and crossing her arms. “I don’t get it, all I did was ask a question, why is he so bothered that I asked a question?”

 

Mark opened his mouth to reply, however his words were cut off by the sound of the ringing bell signaling the final minute of the school day. The students in the room began migrating towards the door excitedly, passing by their teacher with little to no regard. As Mark and Yerim shuffled by Mark tried to catch his downcast eyes, and for a moment he thought he almost looked sad. He didn’t have enough time to do a double take- Yerim dragged him out with no intention of staying.

 

The two then followed the maze of hallways to the school yard, where the mass of primary school students were swarming around to find their parents there to receive them. It didn’t take long for Mark and Yerim to find theirs- two women dressed in expensive clothing conversing with each other by the bushes, Mark spotting the familiar silver car parked on the curb. After goodbyes, the two were on their separate ways.

 

The next day the two returned to an unfamiliar female teacher, who was nervously shuffling papers at the front desk as the students filed in. Their old teacher was nowhere in sight, and all remnants of him had disappeared too. The classroom was eerily bare.

 

“I’m extremely sorry to announce this to you all, but your previous teacher passed away last night in his sleep,” she told them, not even prefacing her statement with a hello as she delivered her words to Mark and his peers. “I will be your new teacher starting from today.”

 

All Mark remembered that day was the ongoing feeling of throwing up that never left him, even as he laid his head on his pillow that night in his room’s darkness. He wasn’t so sure why he felt this way for a teacher who did nothing but yell and make his day generally miserable, but something just felt terribly wrong in his gut. 

 

And the final, confusing expression Mark had captured of him haunted his thoughts for months to come, and it was only now that Mark began to feel the same feeling of  _ wrong  _ in his stomach. Now, staring at the boy’s rage-filled face on the documents he held in his hands. 

“You are such a dumbass.”

 

Mark cringed at Yerim’s vulgar take, snapping back into reality after being taken over by past memories. The two had taken up to Mark’s room, being left alone for a moment while Yukhei went to collect himself in the bathroom. He didn’t respond, however, still trapped in his feelings over the news his father had given him without any warning.

 

“You said you had it all handled, but you didn’t even know his name? How dumb?” Yerim continued to ridicule him as she paced around his room, throwing her hands in various directions in the process. Mark didn’t catch much of it, however, as he was too busy staring at the papers still sitting in his hands while he sat down on his bed. 

 

He was quite unsure as to how his father had made this happen. He’d heard of rouge Imperfects before- the Imperfects that parents don’t keep and end up in the outskirts, on the other side of the fence, except these particular ones have done something to violate the law and have to be brought back into the city to be corrected, blah blah blah. He’d heard that whole lecture a long time ago. He’d also heard of said rouge Imperfects becoming citizens- most of them end up staying in the city after they’re corrected so that they’re less likely to do something again. This wasn’t new.

 

But why him?  _ He  _ had to be the one to correct them? In his senior year? For his final project?

 

“Mark, you okay?” Yerim waved her hand in front of his face and he blinked his thoughts away. 

 

“Ah, sorry,” Mark muttered, setting the papers aside. “I was just thinking.”

 

“What, about your ‘final project’?” Yerim gestured to the papers.

 

Mark nodded slightly, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t you think it’s too much?”

 

Yerim sat down next to him and looked through the documents herself, settling finally on the picture of the boy stapled right on top.

 

“He doesn’t look very friendly,” Yerim said blatantly, scanning the page. “What did he do?”

 

Mark pointed to a section on the front. “Damage to city property and assault of an officer, apparently.”

 

“Oh,” Yerim stated, handing the papers back to Mark. “At least he’s not a murderer.”

 

Mark felt himself go rigid, and he took a short breath in as he gripped the sides of the papers uneasily. He knew Yerim meant nothing of it but it brought back unpleasant memories he’d rather not remember.

 

Yerim caught on quickly, hurriedly putting her arm around Mark’s shoulder. “No, no, I didn't mean it like that. I wasn’t thinking, I shouldn’t of said that, I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay, it’s just… do you think it’s even legal for a student to, you know, help him?” Mark went on, burying his emotions for a moment. “I mean he’s just a year younger than us but I don’t think I’m qualified to handle a criminal. Like he  _ assaulted _ someone.” He stared down at the boy’s face, feeling a strange mixture of uncertainness and fear well up in his chest. “It’s just like-”

 

Mark was interrupted by the creek of his bedroom door being opened, and the two both perked up to find Yukhei poking his head in hesitantly.

 

“Come in, come in,” Mark welcomed him, tossing the papers behind him hastily as Yukhei turned around to shut the door.

 

“Sorry he’s a dumbass,” Yerim beat Mark to speaking, giving him a knowing side glance as he hid his face in his hands out of embarrassment.  “I promise he’s brighter than he seems.”

 

Yukhei, surprisingly, laughed, standing awkwardly in the middle of Mark’s room in front of the two, his demeanor much more relaxed than how Mark has seen him earlier- hands stuffed into his uniform pockets, his shoulders not drawn in and hunched over. 

 

“Really, thanks for doing what you did back there,” he nodded respectfully at them. “I don’t know where that could of gone if you hadn’t stepped in.”

 

“It’s not a problem, really,” Mark replied, although his tone of voice made it seem more like he was apologizing. “Did you find the bathrooms alright?”

 

Yukhei nodded heavily. “Yeah, but…” he trailed off, seeming at a loss for words for a moment. Mark was almost concerned for a moment, maybe something had happened, but then the boy’s eyes began to widen with excitement. “I’ve never been in a house this big before! I swear I past twenty rooms to get here!”

 

Mark laughed uneasily, scratching his neck in embarrassment, however Yerim quickly jumped in. “Oh, don’t worry, that was me too! Mark tried to downplay it by saying stuff like ‘oh I’m never in those rooms though’ but it’s still a lot, right?” 

 

Yukhei agreed wholeheartedly, and soon Mark found himself as a third wheel as the two marveled over his house together. He had never seen Yukhei so elated, since most of the time during school hours when Mark would see him he’d occupy himself quietly away from others- hence why Mark had never learned his name. 

 

His eyes couldn’t help but eventually fall upon Yukhei’s wristband, the yellow material secured skintight that was almost as binding as chains. Mark and Yerim didn’t have to wear wristbands, and most people he’d pass by in the streets and at school never had any either. The only the few that wore them who had ever appeared in Mark’s life were the boy standing before him and several others he didn’t find worthy to remember. He wondered if his father had noticed yet, and what he’d do if he did. He’d never openly invited an Imperfect into his house before.

 

However now, Mark supposed, he’d have one every day. And it wouldn’t be Yukhei.

 

\-------

 

“Hold out your wrist.”

 

Donghyuck stuck his arm out in between the bars of his holding cell, not lifting his head to meet the eyes of the woman who ordered him to do so. 

 

The holding facility he and Renjun had been brought to was nothing short of terrifying- barbed fences guarding it’s outside, menacing looking officers at every turn on the inside. Of course they weren’t particularly nice to them either- pushing them around when they wanted to, one officer even laid a punch on Donghyuck’s nose when he wouldn’t speak during questioning. 

 

However, they were still together. Renjun was sitting in the back corner of their cell, safe for now, so everything was okay. Donghyuck knew he would fight tooth and nail if they tried to separate them.  _ When  _ they separated them.

 

“This will sting a little bit,” the woman uttered, taking out a yellow wristband and wrapping it around Donghyuck’s thin wrist, holding the two ends together by her fingers. Donghyuck flinched as the band suddenly stuck itself to his skin by the press of a button, sending a little shock throughout his arm. He immediately pulled away, attempting to move it with his other hand.

 

“Don’t play with it,” she said, sounding slightly annoyed. “It’ll only hurt more.” She then looked at Renjun from the back, heaving a deep sigh. “You’re next.”

 

Renjun rose to his feet without complaint, coming to sit next to Donghyuck. Donghyuck still hadn’t gotten over the guilt- just seeing Renjun having to roll up his sleeve and offer his wrist out to the woman on the other side of the bars made his heart ache. He didn’t deserve it, none of them did. However everytime Donghyuck tried to think, tried to piece together some way to escape, he just became more hopeless. No one ever returned once they were caught.

 

There were no lights or windows in their holding cell, so when the officers came around to turn the hallway lights off- presumably because the sun had gone down- Donghyuck and Renjun found themselves in the solitude of pure darkness. Even though Donghyuck was never truly relaxed he found himself more at ease then, when no one could see them, and they could lean on each other and whisper the night away, until they would fall asleep facing each other on the cold ground of their cell.

 

And they were scared. The longer they waited the more anxious they became, and every time an officer would walk by their cell Donghyuck would tense up, anticipating them to open the door and give them orders they didn’t want to follow. He would assure Renjun they weren’t coming for him every time but every time he found himself having to reassure himself too. He knew Renjun was going to face something worse than he did because of the red wristband he wore, and even though they never spoke of it Donghyuck knew that Renjun was aware too. It was killing him, the waiting, the fear. 

 

“Why didn’t you go back to the irregularity?” Donghyuck questioned him in a hushed voice, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Renjun against the back wall. 

 

“Didn’t go back?” Renjun echoed, leaning forwards a bit so he could see Donghyuck’s face. “You think I would of gone back without you guys?”

 

“But now you’re here,” Donghyuck gave out an exasperated sigh. “You’re here and you wouldn’t of been if you had gone back.”

 

“Maybe,” Renjun nodded his head slowly. “But then you would of been here by yourself. Right?”

 

Donghyuck parted his lips to retaliate again but Renjun cut him off, taking a short breath in before he spoke in an even quieter voice. “And as far as we know Jeno got away. So he’s safe.”

 

Donghyuck focused on the floor, contemplating his next words carefully. It was true, so far they hadn’t heard about anything of a third accomplice being caught, so Jeno had most likely found his way back to the irregularity and was safe on the other side of the fence, safe with Jaemin in their barn on the outskirts of the woods, waking up to their first morning as two and not four. 

 

“But you’re not,” Donghyuck uttered softly, not lifting his eyes. 

 

Renjun let out a deep breath, an uneven one, the way he did when he was holding in his emotions. 

 

“I know,” was all he said. He then lifted his arm slung it around Donghyuck’s neck, setting his head down on his shoulder. They didn’t speak anymore, which Donghyuck was partially thankful more. He didn’t know how much time they had left together and he hated spending it by talking about things that made his heart heavy. So he instead rested his head on Renjun’s, staring ahead at the bars that walled them in the square room they’d been kept in for what seemed like days. It was funny, in that moment it was almost peaceful, just staring and listening to each other’s breaths. 

 

Renjun was right. The four of them had been through thick and thin together- starting from their years in the orphanage to when they aged out and made it on their own. Life outside the city wasn’t easy at all, but that was what fueled them. They were the only ones who had helped each other, that was the way it had always been, and Donghyuck wasn’t sure if he could of gone through being in that cell alone. He wasn’t sure, but at the same time he wished he was alone. 

 

And then it all blew up one day. An officer was passing by like normal, except this time he stopped in front of the door, the metal keys sending fearful echoes throughout the cell, and opened its entrance. It was the morning of their third day in holding, however it was the first time an officer had stepped foot in their cell besides their brief and pointless questioning the first day. Renjun was still asleep, however Donghyuck’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of the officer’s boots against the concrete floor.

 

“2332, we’re moving you to another facility,” the officer spoke over them, stopping right in front of Donghyuck. “Please cooperate with us.”

 

“He’s not going with you,” Donghyuck rose, despite his heart starting to run. He cleared his throat, internally cursing himself out for being so scared. “He- I either go with him or he doesn’t go.”

 

“2333, I don’t think you understand,” the officer stepped closer to him so that he was practically breathing down Donghyuck’s neck, making him almost shudder away. “He’s coming with us, you are staying here to meet your supervisor.”

 

The officer then went to step by him, however Donghyuck moved to block him again, managing to keep eye contact as if it was a dare. 

 

“No,” Donghyuck shot back. “He’s not.”

 

The officer sighed, reached for his belt. Donghyuck almost immediately panicked, however he stood his ground. He didn’t want to give up so easily. Instead he tensed up and closed his eyes, waiting for whatever was to come.

 

“Hello, I’m requesting backup in cell 59,” the officer called abruptly. Donghyuck opened his eyes, finding the officer holding his radio in his hands, giving Donghyuck a knowing glance. “I’m having compliance difficulties.”

 

“Donghyuck?” he heard Renjun mumble from the floor, waking up slowly. 

 

“Renjun, just-”

 

Donghyuck was cut off by the mass of six more officers beginning to file into their cell, all with wicked expressions on their face as they set their eyes on the two of them. Donghyuck felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced behind him to Renjun, who had fully risen now, his eyes as wild as his own. Donghyuck reached behind him and clasping Renjun’s other hand in his own, promising himself he wouldn’t let go. 

 

But as the men began to advance towards him he never felt so small and helpless. He just wanted it all to end because it was so unfair- it was so unfair and he could feel the fear well up in his chest. He felt like a pitiful cornered animal terrified for his life, cowering in front of a predator that he knew he couldn’t beat. 

 

So instead he turned around and took Renjun in his arms, desperately holding him close for as long as he could. He could feel Renjun’s heartbeat in his own chest, both of them racing beyond what he thought was possible.

 

“I’ll find you,” Donghyuck sputtered out into Renjun’s ear, feeling one of the officer’s hands lay on his shoulder.

 

“No, don’t do anything stupid,” Renjun urged him. “Don’t do anything stupid, you hear me?”

 

“No, I promise I’ll- get off me!” Donghyuck could feel them trying to rip them apart, several of them grabbing at his arms and waist while others were already behind Renjun. It was all happening too fast and Donghyuck could feel himself panicking like he never had before.

 

“I promise I’ll find you, okay?” Donghyuck told him again, struggling against the officers with all his might. “We’ll get out of here, we’ll-”

 

He was interrupted by something hard hitting his back abruptly, knocking the breath out of his lungs for a moment and causing his grip on Renjun to loosen. And they were ripped apart, Donghyuck falling to the ground as he tried to find his breath and Renjun starting to get dragged away by the officers, the one who came for him leading the way to the door. They were leaving, Renjun was leaving, and all Donghyuck could do was lay uselessly in the background, watching it all happen once again. 

 

“No, no wait,” Donghyuck uttered out in the most pathetic voice he’d ever heard from himself. Why was he so useless again? He knew he was weak but why couldn’t he get up? He felt ashamed, he felt selfish. His heart wanting nothing more than to chase after them and lead himself and Renjun out, back home where they were all safe, where they all could sleep without waking up to the fear of separation every day. However, it seemed like his body didn’t care. His will didn’t care and he felt ashamed.

 

And then he was alone. They locked the door and it sent chills down Donghyuck’s spine. He didn’t get up. He laid on the cold floor for a long time, feeling a whole wave of different emotions crash onto him all at once. Anger, regret, fear, devastation. And all he could do was cry silently, while all he could think was three repeating hollow words.

 

_ Don’t leave me. _

 

\-------

 

“And that’s plan of action to aid the people of need outside the city. Thank you for your time.”

 

Yerim set down her script on the picnic table, letting out an annoyed sigh. “What do you think?”

 

The three of them had decided to read their mandatory speeches to each other that afternoon in the front school yard, as they would be presenting them in a few days. They had chosen Mark and Yerim’s usual picnic table underneath the big oakwood tree that they studied at together. It was the first time they had invited Yukhei to join them, however, and it turned out to be favorable company- he had brought snacks his mother had made for them, and was ecstatic to tell them that his parents were as elated as he was that he had new friends. Or friends at all, it seemed.

 

It made Mark feel guilty. How long had he not noticed how alone Yukhei was? He must of felt so lonely- from Mark’s knowledge Yukhei was the only senior Imperfect at their school, possibly the only Imperfect across all grades. And only now Mark had noticed? He felt guilty for how long Yukhei must of suffered by himself all those years. 

 

Both Mark and Yukhei, however, had their jaws dropped and looked like complete idiots. Their speeches had been mediocre at best compared to Yerim’s, who had captivated them from start to finish. They were at a loss for words, to say the least.

 

“That’s definitely going to get you a high mark, wow,” Mark said in awe. “I have absolutely no critique.”

 

“Genius,” Yukhei said simply, giving Yerim a wide smile. “Seriously.”

 

Yerim looked them both in eye briefly before she rolled her eyes. “You’re supposed to give me constructive feedback, not mindless compliments. Don’t lie to me- I know it’s not the best speech.”

 

“Do you want to hear mine again?” Yukhei offered, holding up his script. “It’s not as good as that.”

 

That triggered a small laugh from Yerim as well as Mark. He wondered how Yukhei could be as humorous and lighthearted as he was after having little to no friends the entirety of his high school career. Either way it made for an enjoyable addition to Mark’s little group he had now. An effortless addition, too.

 

“So, who wants to edit whose?” Yerim brought up, tapping her fingers on her paper. “I don’t mind either way.”

 

“Huh?” Yukhei questioned, giving them a puzzled look.

 

“Oh,” Mark realized stupidly. “Yeah, usually we exchange our papers for each other to look over and edit, just so we can get second opinions and stuff besides just reading it out to someone.” He then picked up his script and tapped the papers on the table so that they fell together evenly. “Who would you like to edit?”

 

“Ah, I don’t think I’m good enough to edit someone’s speech,” Yukhei said as he brought his hand to his neck. “I’d probably make it worse.”

 

“Oh, come on, it’s good to get some editing experience in there too,” Yerim encouraged him. “Makes you a better writer.”

 

“Yeah,” Mark agreed. He then handed his speech to Yerim across the table from them. “Here, we can rotate our papers clockwise. I’ll edit yours, you can edit Yerim’s, and she’ll edit mine.”

 

“Sounds good,” Yerim accepted his speech, pushing hers towards Yukhei. “Here, just give it a go. Trying won’t hurt you, right?”

 

Yukhei stared at her paper blankly for a moment before he picked up his own and handed it to Mark, taking Yerim’s in his own hands and then looking back up. 

 

“I’ll try my best,” he said sheepishly, giving them his smile again. 

 

Mark reached over and patted his back encouragingly. “You got it, man, I believe in you.”

 

Yukhei opened his mouth to speak, however he was cut off by the loud sound of a car horn, catching the three’s attention quickly. They peered over the bushes separating the school’s lawn from the street and all laid their eyes on the familiar car. Mark then hurriedly glanced down as his watch, reading the time as five minutes past the hour.

 

“Shit!” Mark exclaimed, rising from the bench quickly and stuffing Yukhei’s paper into his school bag. “Sorry, gotta go!”

 

“Language,” Yerim teased him as she bumped Mark’s arm with her fist as he past her. “Have fun, dumbass!”

 

“Bye!” Mark heard Yukhei exclaim behind his back, and he turned his head as he was walking to see him waving fully. Mark did a small wave back, wary that the arm he was swinging through the air was the one with his yellow wristband.

 

“Hello, Mark,” his father greeted him as he slid into the passenger seat. “Lost track of time, did we?”

 

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” Mark apologized as he locked in his seatbelt. He then swung his school bag into the back seat, but failed to realize there were two men sitting behind him silently.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t-” he caught eye of the thick black briefcase sitting in between the seats, causing him to lose his train of thought. What the hell was that for?

 

“It’s alright, Mark, they’re being creepy quiet back there, aren’t you boys?” his father chuckled, glancing back at them in the mirror.

 

“Yes, sir,” they responded almost robotically, making Mark feel a little uneasy. It was always awkward listening to people address his father like that, no matter how many times he’d heard it before.

 

“So…” Mark trailed off, unsure how to word his question. He didn’t want to seem like he was questioning his father but at the same time he genuinely didn’t know why they were back there, no matter what situation he tried to think of.

 

“I see you’re still hanging around Yukhei,” his father commented, cutting off Mark’s thoughts as he began his way down the school’s street, not taking his eyes off the road as he spoke.

 

Mark glanced at his father. Did he finally notice? Was he upset? No, his father wasn’t like that, he wouldn’t be upset. Or was he? Why would he question him then?

 

“I uh… yeah,” Mark stated lamely, unsure as to how he was supposed to answer. He couldn’t tell what his father was looking for. 

 

“And you’re okay with it?” his father surprised him, this time taking his focus off the road for a moment to give Mark what looked like a concerned expression. So he knew?

 

“Me?” Mark repeated his words in his head. “I’m fine. It’s fine.”

 

“Okay,” his father said with uncertainty, however he didn’t press the issue further. It was then an awkward silence, with Mark not sure what to say following and instead opting to wait for his father to say something first, all the while the two men in the back seats rode along with them and listened to their conversation. It wasn’t exactly comfortable. 

 

“Mark,” his father finally spoke, letting Mark let go of the breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Do you know where we’re going?”

 

It was only then Mark realized they weren't on their usual road back home. “No…?”

 

His father laughed again, then reached over to pat Mark’s thigh. “I’m just joking around with you. We’re going to pick up the rouge Imperfect.”

 

Mark nearly froze up in his seat. Already? Without any warning at all? He then glanced back at the two men, both of whom caught his eyes with their own cold stares. He didn’t feel ready, he hadn’t prepared at all. He didn’t even know how to prepare- he never sat down to discuss it with his father prior even though his father told him they would. 

 

“I know it must feel like a daunting task for you, especially because of your trauma, but I know that because you’re my son that you’re a brave soul,” his father almost lectured him, Mark tightening his grip on his uniform’s pants as they continued down the road. Right, his trauma. Was that the reason for his fear? No, it couldn’t be, it happened long ago. He had pushed it so far into the back of his memories that he didn’t even remember her face. Or was it the reason?

 

“This can be so much more than your final project,” his father continued. “It can be eye-opening, for both you and this boy. You’ll be able to show him the wonders of living in this city all the while doing him a favor.” He glanced at Mark once. “You’ll do great, right?”

 

“Right,” Mark repeated uneasily, trying to hide his uncertainty. 

 

“Right!” his father reached over and shook his shoulder, flashing Mark a smile of trust. Mark wished he hadn’t.

 

“Universities will be all over this,” his father continued, unaware of how anxious Mark had become. “Not only is the mayor’s son applying to their school but he also worked one on one with a rogue Imperfect? It’s genius!”

 

“Yeah,” Mark agreed soulessly, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he gazed out his window, wanting nothing more than to be on the road home instead of this one. It wasn’t a populated district- this one was a combination of old buildings and official buildings, some sparking memories of his childhood before his father stopped taking him to them. It was the twentieth district, the last city district, that was the one only populated of government-occupied buildings. It was so long ago that he felt he had ever been there before, ever drove down those roads and entered those buildings engraved with the city’s insignia. The more he tried to remember the more it brought back unpleasant memories, so he instead tried to pretend he’d simply never seen those buildings before.

 

The holding facilities were, however, a complex Mark had truly never visited before. It resembled a large silver box, with no windows anywhere along its daunting exterior and a large, barbed fence stretching around the entire perimeter, lined with security guards that appeared as fortified as the building itself. As the car proceeded towards the entrance along the dirt road Mark couldn’t help but stare at one of them, at their dark hats hiding their eyes and the impressive array of weapons they had secured onto their black uniform’s belt. It was unnerving, to say the least.  

 

Mark was too distracted to notice the car had come to a complete stop already. He took his eyes off the security guard and turned his head to look forward, taking in the height of the gate that stood looming before them. He felt like he didn’t belong there- this was a place for criminals, for bad people. Not him. He had no business here.

 

“Hello,” Mark heard his father say nonchalantly. He turned his attention to see that his father had rolled down his window and was waving to something further up the fence that Mark couldn’t see even if he leaned forward. He fell back into the carseat and let out a huff of air, thoughts swarming his busy mind.

 

_ Breathe, Mark, this isn’t the end of the world,  _ he told himself.

 

The gate opened shortly after, the gritty sound of the bottom sliding across the dirt echoing throughout the car. They proceeded slowly inside, and Mark watched attentively as the gate slowly closed behind them once the car was several meters inside. They were walled in.

 

As Mark was turning forward again the car suddenly lurched to a stop, with two security guards standing in front of them. He saw his father give them a casual wave as he opened the door, then motioned for Mark to do the same. Hesitantly Mark followed him, stepping onto the crunchy grounds of the holding facility and taking in a breath of the stale air. 

 

He was almost immediately confronted by one of the security guards, who was holding a small device in his hand and reaching out his other for Mark’s shoulder. Mark was unsure what exactly was happening, however he strangely didn’t feel the need to oppose the man’s actions even as the device’s screen lit up after he pressed a few buttons. He had no need to worry, right? He wasn’t there to be locked up.

 

“Oh, there’s no need, he’s my son,” Mark heard his father call rather firmly to the man, and Mark looked over to him to find his father’s face almost troubled, if that was the word. It made him even more confused, however the man backed off, giving Mark a nod of silent apology. 

 

“This way, Mark,” his father called him, and Mark brushed past the man to trot up to his father, already making his way to the building.

 

“What was that?” Mark whispered uneasily, glancing back at the officials now following them behind his father’s two men- who were also carrying the briefcase Mark had seen with them. 

 

“Just security measures, but you don’t have to worry about that,” his father gave him a firm pat on the shoulder, nonverbally giving Mark the signal that the subject wasn’t to be elaborated any further. Mark could sense his father’s tension, whether it was from the security guard or the entire complex itself, and it only added to Mark’s uneasiness. His father was his pillar in many ways, and to see him like this unnerved him.

 

They continued up the gravel-like pathway from where they had arrived to the complex entrance, a singular irregularity along its otherwise unaltered exterior. Another security guard greeted them at the entrance, this one regarding Mark the same as his father and extending his gloved hand out to him in a friendly gesture. Mark took it with intention and poise, something he’d observed his father do countless times before, and then proceeded inside the narrow entranceway behind his father.

 

The inside was, to say it lightly, not near as perfect-appearing as the smooth, silver exterior. The first thing that confronted Mark was the smell- the smell of bodies and rooms alike long unwashed. To accompany the unpleasant aroma was the appearance itself- it almost resembled an unfinished cellar. The walls appeared concrete, as well as the floors and ceiling- which was eerily low- and the lobby was so small it could barely fit the four of them and the metal detectors.

 

As Mark joined his father’s side anxiously the group walked up to the receptionist desk, which sported a woman whose yellow-wristed hand dashed across the keyboard in front of her at lightning speed.

 

“Hello?” his father tapped the desk lightly to get the woman’s attention. She glanced up with an unbothered expression, her eyes seeming knowing of the man’s status but not particularly enthralled by his appearance.

 

“Someone should be here to escort you to your pickup room shortly, sir,” she said with a hint of distaste lingering on her tongue. Mark furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at her response, however his father placed his hand on his shoulder to lead him away after he had hastily uttered his thanks to the woman.

 

“An Imperfect?” Mark whispered ever so slightly into his father’s ear, confused as to why an Imperfect would be the one manning the entrance to the holding facilities.

 

“Probably a rogue Imperfect who’s becoming a citizen,” his father uttered back, careful to keep his voice low in case the woman should notice. “Often they’re given jobs like this to keep them close while they’re being evaluated for citizenship.”

 

“Oh,” was all Mark came up for as a response. It was all new to him, and he didn’t quite know how to feel about it. To him it felt counter-productive, as the woman didn’t seem very happy in her position, but at the same time he saw the logic behind it. It was simply odd.

 

“Mr. Lee?” a voice called for them from the opposite hallway. Mark looked up from his hands to spot its owner as a well-dressed man with a clipboard of many papers in hand, a warm smile accompanying him. It was probably the friendliest face Mark had seen once he’d stepped foot on the facilities’ ground, and suddenly he was grateful. 

 

“That’s us,” his father chimed, and the four picked themselves up from leaning against the wall to greet the man, shaking hands like normal business while they introduced themselves.

 

“And you’re Mark Lee?” the man smiled as he shook Mark’s hand.

 

“Ah, yes,” Mark responded, wondering if the man could sense his nervousness.

 

“A pleasure to have you,” the man said as he began to guide them down the hallway, which proved to have the same unimpressive features as the lobby. “I’m Dr. Frederick, and I’ll be your go-to guy for this entire process. Sound good?”

 

The entire time Dr. Frederick was making odd gestures that succeeded in drawing a slight chuckle from Mark, but he also felt a sense that the man was almost treating him like a child in order to calm his nerves. He wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or embarrassed. 

 

“You’re our youngest volunteer so far for our Imperfect Correction Program, so we are so very delighted to have you. Plus,” Dr. Frederick gestured to Mark’s father, who was following them a couple paces behind. “Your dad’s the big man. It’s really a win-win for the program all together!”

 

The conversation continued throughout their journey through the facilities, with Dr. Frederick mostly holding it up while Mark simply took in his surroundings, throwing in an occasional response here and there. In ways it was what he imagined it to be and in other ways it was not- the cellar-like appearance continued no matter how many hallways they turned down, however not once did they pass a cell or room where the boy might be held. It appeared to be office room after office room, even passing one labeled as “Dr. Frederick” with the caption “Imperfect Correction Program Chief Director”. Looking up to Dr. Frederick Mark found that even he did not meet his expectations- he was a young man, maybe of his late thirties, and smiled too much for someone who worked with criminals, nothing like the cold-faced and authoritative old men Mark had envisioned.

 

Abruptly Dr. Frederick pulled Mark to a halt, even though Mark hadn’t even noticed his hand on his shoulder in his trance. They had stopped in front of a dark door with no label, and as Mark glanced down the hallway it seemed to be filled with similar-appearing doors, all on the same side. Lost in his thoughts Mark had almost forgotten his nervousness and began to feel anxious all over again, a million thoughts swarming his head. What if it all went wrong? What if he failed? What if-

 

“After you,” Dr. Frederick gestured, politely stepping back after he had unlocked the door and motioning for Mark to take the first step inside. Peering inside, Mark only saw darkness, with the only source of light coming from a small lamp on a table in the far corner of the square room. He didn’t see the boy anywhere, however his anxiousness kept telling him he was inside.

 

Mark turned himself to glance at his father, who gave him a nod of encouragement and a small thumbs up only he would notice. He then turned back, gritting his teeth, and took his first steps in.

 

Once he was inside he didn’t know what he had worked himself up for. It was exactly how it had appeared from the outside- dark, four walls, and furnished with only the lamp and table. The rest filed in behind him as he let out a breath of relief, his fear of being pushed into a room alone with the boy washing away. After the five had settled themselves in, Dr. Frederick closed the door silently behind them and placed his clipboard lightly on the desk, finally turning to face them.

 

“I’m sure you both have read up on our number 2333’s profile very carefully,” the man began, leaning back on the tablehead. “As his supervisor, I do have to say he has given us some trouble during his time here, as he seems to have some issues controlling his emotions after the separation with his accomplice, however I prescribed him a medicine to help better control his extremes. I’ll discuss that with your father while you’re meeting with him.”

 

Mark was not thrilled to hear that the boy had given so much trouble that it had to be medically dealt with, however he was more intrigued by the new knowledge of his “accomplice”. Prior to this moment he had never heard of one, and he wondered why neither his father nor the papers had informed him. Was the other an Imperfect too? Would he have to avoid him in the city so that the two didn’t meet and conspire with each other?

 

“If I could bring your attention to this wall, I’d like to show you him.”

 

_ Huh?  _ Mark thought. Before Mark could object Dr. Frederick was moving towards a small switch on the wall he had failed to notice earlier. Of course this is what would happen- and it was all happening too quickly. Mark had just become comfortable in their small room, but now his heart was beginning to beat faster than ever as he forced himself to turn to the right wall, taking in deep breaths in an effort to calm himself down. Why was he so nervous? What was it all for?

 

All a suddenly there was no longer a wall, but rather a window. In the blink of an eye the wall became transparent, much unexpected of one constructed of seemingly solid concrete. Mark blinked his eyes shut at the sudden income of light from the other side, which appeared to be much more well lit. 

 

It was another room, small like theirs, with four solid walls and a door on the same side as theirs. This time the lighting was supplied by a light fixture hanging from the ceiling, directly above a table that sported two chairs perpendicular to the window.

 

And Mark swore in that moment, his heart stopped.

 

There, sitting in the chair furthest from the window, slouched over so the light didn’t hit his face.

 

There he was. 


	3. THREE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's up my dudes, here's the third chapter! the next one may or may not be a little delayed because im super busy this time of year, but i'll do my best to get it out to you guys asap! anyways, hope u like the third chapter !!

Mark wasn’t sure what exactly he was expecting when he first saw him, but that didn’t matter. Either way, he still would of been as shocked as he was in that moment, staring at the boy on the other side of the glass. Even though he couldn’t make out the boy’s eyes clearly, it chilled him to the bone how soulless they looked just through the wisps of his hair. How empty they were. 

 

“His real name is Donghyuck,” Dr. Frederick continued on, the boy on the other side seeming unaware of their existence. “His parents didn’t register their last name on his chip, so for now it’s just Donghyuck from what he’s told us. His accomplice was an Unperfect, so he was taken to the detention center, however like I said ever since their separation he’s been harder to work with.”

 

Mark didn’t take his eyes off the boy in the next room the entire time Dr. Frederick was speaking- his voice turned into a white noise in the back of his head. He wasn’t sure how he felt- it was something so deep he couldn’t tell what it was.

 

“Mark?” Dr. Frederick raised his voice, snapping Mark out of his trance.

 

“I’m sorry, yes?” he responded dutifully, trying to mask his emotions.

 

“I was telling your father,” Dr. Frederick continued, “should he exhibit any resistant or otherwise inappropriate behavior you are welcome to call me and I will promptly deal with it. The more easier it is for him to relax, the easier it will be for you to help him achieve citizenship.”

 

“Right,” Mark nodded slightly. He could feel himself playing with his fingers nervously in his hands, however he hoped the rest wouldn’t see it in their low-lit room.

 

“Your responsibilities will consist simply of being by his side all day, taking him to school with you and to any social outings so he may get used to life here in the city,” Dr. Frederick explained to him slowly, probably now aware of Mark’s lingering attention. “Your job is not to be his discipliner, that’s my job, however you may teach him about the culture here that he may not pick up on himself.”

 

“Mhm,” Mark mumbled, not taking his eyes off the boy on the other side.

 

“Would you like to meet him?”

 

Suddenly Mark’s attention was drawn back, and he was snapped back into current time. “What?”

 

“There are several procedures we must complete with you two before you leave us today, but if you’d like to wait here a while longer that’s alright too,” Dr. Frederick explained thoughtfully. Mark let out his breath he didn’t know he was holding, however he glanced back slightly at his father again, suddenly aware of his and his own expectations.

 

“No, it’s fine, I can go in,” Mark said in the most confident voice he could muster.

 

Dr. Frederick nodded happily, then reached out his hand towards the man who held the briefcase behind his father. The two shared a silent greeting as the briefcase was passed off, and then Dr. Frederick turned back to Mark.

 

“Alright. Let’s go, shall we?”

 

Mark followed him cautiously out of the room back into the hallway, leaving his father and the two men behind. In an attempt to calm his nerves he kept telling himself that Dr. Frederick would be in there with him, that he wouldn’t be alone. Everything would be perfectly fine. Everything-

 

Suddenly the door next to the room they were in was open. Mark held his breath as Dr. Frederick pulled it open slowly, stepping back to allow Mark inside first. 

 

This was it. Now was the time. Mark let his breath go slowly, then took his first step forward. And then another. And another.

 

The door closed behind them eerily. Mark fiddled with his fingers nervously, almost hiding behind Dr. Frederick and averting his gaze from the boy who sat to his right. This wasn’t happening, this wasn’t happening at all.

 

“Mark,” Dr. Frederick almost puffed out his chest as if he was showing off his own child, even though the boy didn’t lift his eyes to meet theirs. 

 

“Mark, meet Donghyuck.”

 

\-------

 

The rattling of his cell door echoed through the eerie silence that had consumed Donghyuck’s entire being, so much that he nearly jumped out of fright while he sat in the far corner of his room, knees drawn to his chest and arms wrapped tightly around them. He had barely moved from that position ever since Renjun was taken away, only managing to scrape himself off the floor in some attempt to redeem his pride. He wanted to make sure they knew they hadn’t won yet, that they hadn’t broken him, but he couldn’t help doubt himself. 

 

This time it wasn’t scary officials who entered- it was a singular man, whose suit held an absence of any daunting black fabric and threatening weapons. However, as Donghyuck lifted his head slightly to catch the man’s face he felt a swift chill run through his spine, from what he wasn’t sure. His eyes darted downward, searching the floor for something else to call his attention.

 

The man began to approach him with quiet footsteps, somehow silencing the expensive looking heel his shoes bore. Donghyuck focused his attention on the man’s gait instead, and not his face- he didn’t want to meet his eyes, not again. His gait was slower than most of the people he’d seen- not cautious slow, but with direction. He was there for a purpose, but wasn’t urgent in his steps.

 

The man stopped a few meters before him, just slightly in Donghyuck’s bubble but not pushing his boundaries too much. Even so Donghyuck still refused to look up again as the man crouched down to his eye level, dipping his head a bit to try and catch his attention.

 

“Donghyuck,” was all he said, but it sent him into a whirlwind of emotions. He had been the first to address Donghyuck by his name and not by a number, a thing. However, somehow it was even more terrifying than if he had not. He had not an ounce of faith that any of these people saw him as a human being, no matter how they addressed him. And the fact that this man was trying to fake it made Donghyuck never want to run more than that moment. Only then did he know why the man made him feel so uneasy.

 

“I did get it right, correct?” the man almost chuckled, holding out his hand. “I’m Dr. Frederick, and I’ll be taking care of you, okay?”

 

This time Donghyuck allowed himself to look up to the man’s hand. His fingers were scrawny, and he noticed calluses on his right hand- whoever he was, he wrote a lot. He decided he didn’t like that.

 

“I see, I see,” Dr. Frederick said after a long, awkward silence between the two. “Don’t worry, we’ll get there at some point.”

 

Donghyuck couldn’t help think if he was crazy. He had to be- why else was he this calm? Why else-

 

Suddenly Donghyuck found his eyes shifting to the door. Over Dr. Frederick’s shoulder, the door was open. Wide open. He took in a sharp breath of air, his mind abruptly flooded with thoughts of escape. Maybe this was his chance, the moment he had been desperately waiting for. A sign, an omen. This guy in front of him seemed out of his mind, he could surely get past him in time.

 

However, Donghyuck’s gaze betrayed him easily. 

 

“The door feels nice when it’s open, doesn’t it?” Dr. Frederick commented casually, sending chills down Donghyuck’s back again. He couldn’t help himself, and he let his eyes slip upwards, meeting the man’s eyes one-on-one. 

 

Usually, Donghyuck found he was very good at reading people. It was a talent many had praised him on, from his three friends he’d shared his entire life with to even the people who had cared for them before they were on their own. It had gotten him to many places in his life- both positive and negative.

 

But never, not ever had he seen what he saw in Dr. Frederick’s eyes. He didn’t know what secrets they held. They stared into Donghyuck’s with such intent and strange interest that it made Donghyuck uncomfortable to keep eye contact for more than a mere second. He quickly averted his eyes, tightening his grip on his knees so that he could hide his chin behind them. His heart was racing and all he wanted to do was crawl into himself, run away and away.

 

“I left it open for a reason, Donghyuck,” Dr. Frederick continued gleefully. “I want to establish trust between us. If I’m going to help you, we must establish trust. And in order for you to trust me I first must show trust in you.” He swiveled on his toes to glance back at the open door. “I trust you enough to have that door open.” He then turned back to Donghyuck, offering out his hand again.

 

“Do you trust me?”

 

Donghyuck didn’t trust him. He didn’t trust anything, not one thing. He didn’t even trust himself as he tried to reign in his rampant thoughts, repeating his parting words with Renjun over and over within his head.

 

_ Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t do anything stupid. _

 

He was reaching out his hand. He watched it, his own dirty, shaking hand. It was almost unfamiliar. It was almost not his. His mind was in a million places at once and all he could see was his own hand, stretching out towards Dr. Frederick’s. He did not trust himself.

 

“That’s good, Donghyuck, that’s good,” Dr. Frederick encouraged him, waving his fingers almost as if to coax Donghyuck’s hand to his. Their fingers were centimeters apart.

 

Suddenly Donghyuck was not in control anymore. His fingers curled back into the palm of his hand and he drove it upwards, springing up from his position and effectively ramming his fist into Dr. Frederick’s jaw. The man fell out of balance and slid to the ground, probably in a state of shock. Donghyuck knew he wasn’t strong enough to knock him out. He also knew had to act quickly, however for a moment he couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe. He was horrified. What would they do to him now?

 

His feet worked quicker than his mind, and he was outside of his cell in moments, his heart pounding in his head so loud he couldn’t hear anything else. He had to get out. That was his only thought.

 

He started down the hallway, his adrenaline pushing him faster than he ever thought he could go.  _ Get out and don’t get caught,  _ he screamed at himself.  _ They’ll kill you if you get caught. _

 

Donghyuck could of sworn he was crying as he rounded the next corner to find a set of officials, leaning against the wall seeming to have a peaceful day. For a split moment they regarded each other in silence, and Donghyuck knew that split second already made him too late. 

 

He made a sharp turn on his heel and sprinted the other way, blindly down unfamiliar halls in a desperate attempt to escape. Every turn he took the more hope he lost and the more he dreaded what they would do if he was caught.  _ When _ he was caught.

 

He wished he wasn’t alone. He yearned to be by his friends’ side again. He heart ached for the times the four of them would be around the fire in the middle of their barn on their makeshift benches that were really just tree logs, Renjun sitting safely at his feet poking the burning wood, laughing about some remark Jeno had made as Jaemin told them stories about how he fixed some old man’s computer again for the fifth time that week. Donghyuck could picture the scene so perfectly, however he knew it was ruined. Jaemin and Jeno were at home all alone, and Renjun was somewhere so unreachable that Donghyuck felt so pathetic for even considering an escape plan. There was no escape plan. And it was all his fault.

 

Inevitably he rounded a corner that again hid the presence of another official, and Donghyuck knew there was nothing left he could do. They almost crashed upon him, grabbing at his clothes and his arms to try and gain some sense of control over him as he struggled against them, screaming and kicking with all that was left of him.

 

Eventually Donghyuck exhausted himself so much that all he could do was close his eyes and whimper out small protests as he fell to the ground, the officials following him. He breathed in heavy, uncontrolled breaths, feeling the tears trickle down his face in defeat. He hated it, he hated everything about it, however there was nothing else he could do. Whatever glimpse of escape he had envisioned was now flooded by the dread of punishment, the dread of his life being in someone else’s hands.

 

When he opened his eyes again he could see Dr. Frederick walking towards them through his blurred vision, and he never felt more hatred well up inside him than that moment. He hated how fixed his eyes were, his slow but sure walk, his callused hands. 

 

“I see we’ll have to work on trust,” the man uttered almost disappointedly, crouching down to Donghyuck’s level again. He stretched out his fingers to Donghyuck’s face, wiping away a tear with gentle hands, and it only made Donghyuck more angry. 

 

“Bring him back to his room,” Dr. Frederick ordered immediately, rising from his position to address the officials. “I’ll come back later.”

 

The words were empty in Donghyuck’s mind for a moment until the officials were dragging him upwards, kicking his feet so that he began to walk.

 

“No,” he uttered softly, however it was clear no one heard him. “No,” he repeated himself, this time loud enough for them to hear. 

 

But they didn’t listen. They didn’t even regard him, instead pushed him more violently down the hallway back to his box he’d been living in for days. And he repeated himself over and over, hearing himself scream out to silence time after time. He didn’t want to go back. He didn’t want to go back to that cursed cell. But he knew no one was going to listen. 

 

No one was there to listen.

 

And suddenly there he was, sitting in a chair in another square, box room by himself. He didn't know how many days it had been. He had lost the concept of time a long while ago. He hadn’t seen the sun in who knows how long. All he had become familiar with now was the dark loneliness of the walls of his prison, and the longer he was there the harder it was to imagine a world existed outside of it.

 

He had never felt so powerless, sitting there alone. His will to fight back felt stripped from him, whatever was now coursing through his veins keeping him in a constant state of unwanted peace. He felt violated in the worst way possible, and now there was no way for him to object. 

 

The opening door broke the silence. He didn’t lift his eyes- he didn’t have a care in the world for who had come to see him now. There was the awkward shuffling of feet after the door closed again, followed by another silence that seemed to last for ages.

 

“Mark, meet Donghyuck.”

 

He had never grown to hate his name more than every time it came out of Dr. Frederick’s mouth. He cringed inwardly, wishing for him to call him by his number just once. He hated hearing his name from him. His name didn’t deserve to be in his mouth.

 

“Donghyuck,” Dr. Frederick was now addressing him, “this is Mark Lee. He’s volunteered to help you. Won’t you say hello?”

 

Donghyuck raised his head ever so slowly, reluctant to see his new oppressor’s face. Who would it be this time? Would he be worse or better than Dr. Frederick? As horrible as that man was, Donghyuck imagined there were probably more cruel-hearted people out there. He didn’t doubt it for a moment.

 

However, it was not what he expected. He lifted his eyes to find a small presence behind Dr. Frederick. A boy, a young boy, his age perhaps, gazing at Donghyuck with what seemed like fright. He didn’t know what to think of it. Was it just another ploy at him, another trick? What was a kid like him doing there?

 

“He’s not the most talkative, my apologies,” Dr. Frederick commented as if he knew everything about Donghyuck. Of course he thought that.

 

“Please, Mark, take a seat,” Dr. Frederick motioned to the chair across from Donghyuck, and the boy followed his directions so perfectly Donghyuck found it despicable.  _ He really must be just another brainwashed citizen of this damned city, _ Donghyuck thought to himself as the two caught each other’s gazes. He seemed to look at Donghyuck like he was a monster, and Donghyuck expected no less.

 

“So the first step is going over the simple process you two are about to embark on,” Dr. Frederick started, Donghyuck almost daring to roll his eyes. “Donghyuck, he’s going to help you attain citizenship so you can lead a better life in the city. There will be monthly check-ups to evaluate your status, and if we evaluate you to be fit for citizenship then it shall be done on that day. In the meantime-”

 

Donghyuck zoned out following those statements. He had no intention of obtaining citizenship. He had absolutely no interest in being a part of something so corrupt and so cruel. He already has his family he had to get back to, that he had to save. He had people waiting for him. He glanced towards Mark, his mind busy with potential ideas. How could he convince this guy to help him? Or to at least waive him off whatever medicine Dr. Frederick had prescribed him so he could get his fighting spirit back? Judging by the way he followed directions so easily Donghyuck came to the conclusion it wouldn’t be that difficult.

 

“Secondly,” Dr. Frederick interrupted his thoughts by setting down the briefcase in between them, almost as if he intentionally snapped Donghyuck back into attention. “Now we must make sure your pairing technology works.”

 

“Pairing technology?” Mark questioned, looking up at Dr. Frederick with the trusting eyes Donghyuck wished he could of had.

 

“Your father didn’t explain it to you on your way?” Dr. Frederick inquired, seeming genuinely confused. Donghyuck would of laughed. “It’s just some simple gear you and Donghyuck will wear to prevent any difficulties with your process.”

 

Dr. Frederick unlocked the briefcase with care and unlatched it so that it was fully open, the little spark of curiosity Donghyuck had left in him urging him to peer inside. As he did his eyes laid upon two bracelets, similar to the ones that had been put on himself and Renjun, however now they were blue in color. In between them there was a small flash drive and the same hand held device the woman had had when Donghyuck got his yellow wristband.

 

“If I could have your wrist please, Mark,” Dr. Frederick requested as he lifted the first one out. Mark offered his wrist without complaint, and Donghyuck watched intently as it did the same thing his own yellow bracelet had done to him when he had first arrived. He saw Mark visibly recoil as it tightened around his skin, and he couldn’t help but think that this boy had probably never had to go through a single trouble in his life. He was almost jealous.

 

“Donghyuck, your turn.”

 

Donghyuck lifted his free wrist from his lap and laid it down on the table, only bringing it up for Dr. Frederick to loop it under. It was the same procedure. 

 

Except this time it wasn’t. When the bracelet tightened itself to his skin it was more than a shock- it felt almost like small needles had dug themselves into his skin just below the surface, and he curled his fingers in pain as he retracted his wrist, holding it in his other hand as he stared at it in shock. What was it now that he had locked around his wrist?

 

“So,” Dr. Frederick began. “These serve to basically keep you two together, and for me to know where you are should you get separated. If you are further than fifty meters apart, I’ll get a notification on my computer of both of your locations.” He then turned to Donghyuck, and leaned over to tap the surface of Donghyuck’s bracelet.

 

“And, after a certain amount of time, yours will give you a friendly, painless zap to remind you to get back to Mark, okay?” 

 

Donghyuck was almost at a loss for words. Essentially he now bore two chains on his wrists- one marking his undesired status and the other restraining him from ever being on his own. It felt so dehumanizing Donghyuck wanted to scream, however he had to keep up the facade for now. No matter how much he wished not to.

 

“Seems like it’s all working fine,” Dr. Frederick wrapped things up, placing the device back down and taking the flash drive from the briefcase, slipping it into an inside pocket of his suit. “Should it ever need recalibration your father should know how to use it, as we sent it to him a couple days beforehand for him to familiarize himself.”

 

“Okay,” Mark responded, gazing at his bracelet like it was something he had never seen before. Surely the boy must of encountered something of the sort once in his life? Surely he wasn’t  _ that _ naive?

 

“I’m going to go fetch your father, will you be okay?” Dr. Frederick proposed to Mark, almost babying him.

 

“I’ll be fine,” the boy responded, and Donghyuck didn’t know if he felt relief or resentment. He wasn’t a monster. He hated how everyone treated him like one- like he was some sort of cold-blooded killer.

 

“I’ll be right back then,” Dr. Frederick announced to them both, turning on his heel and exiting the room in a swift fashion.

 

And all a sudden they were alone, just the two of them. Donghyuck pretended he didn’t notice how Mark tensed up immediately after Dr. Frederick’s departure. Instead he averted his eyes down to his lap again and pretended he wasn’t there. It was the easiest thing to do.

 

Mark’s father entered with an additional two men and suddenly the room became so filled with people it was uncomfortable. His father seemed to be a man of power, judging by the way he carried himself and how expensive his suit appeared. That also contributed to Donghyuck’s uncomfortableness. 

 

“If you don’t have any further questions, I don’t see any other reason you should stay any longer,” Dr. Frederick clapped his hands together, standing to the right of Donghyuck. He then placed a hand on his shoulder and Donghyuck almost recoiled from the touch.  _ Yes, let’s go. Get me out of here. _

 

“None come to mind,” Mark’s father stated, giving a glance to Donghyuck quickly. Donghyuck then followed his gaze to Mark. “What about you?”

 

“None here,” Mark sputtered out, stumbling over his words a bit. He looked overwhelmed. He should be.

 

“Alright then,” Dr. Frederick tapped Donghyuck’s shoulder again. “I’ll show you the way out.”

 

Donghyuck watched as Dr. Frederick maneuvered his way to the door, opening it first to let Mark and his father out. He then settled his eyes on Donghyuck, and Donghyuck could feel his stare. The stare he’d gotten uncomfortably familiar to. The two men the flocked behind him, one behind each of his shoulders. 

 

_ Ah,  _ Donghyuck thought.  _ So this is how it’s going to be. _

 

He rose from his seat in a prolonged manner, grateful he was finally leaving the hellhole he’d been trapped in for what seemed like ages, but unexcited of the fact that he was inevitably leaving to go to another kind of prison. 

 

Nevertheless, at least it wouldn’t have four walls caging him in and an insane doctor breathing down his neck all the time. No, this was an opportunity. He was determined- he must find a way to get away from Mark, somehow, find Renjun, and get the hell out of the city. Easier said than done, however he had to hold on to at least one string of hope to keep him going.

 

As they walked down the halls, Donghyuck kept his gaze on Mark’s back, deep in thought. 

 

_ Now I just have to figure you out. _

 

\-------

 

The car ride home was one of the most awkward car rides Mark had ever taken part of. Somehow, it surpassed when Yerim and Yukhei had plunged into their backseat after the near fight between him and those boys a week ago. His father was at the wheel with Mark still seated in the passenger seat, nervously tapping his thigh to keep him distracted. Donghyuck was seated in the far back, one of the men to his side and the other in the opposite seat before him. 

 

And there was only complete silence.

 

Mark wasn’t sure if he was even supposed to talk. Should he say hello? Should he converse with his father? He took a quick glance at him from the corner of his eye- he seemed too focused on the road to be interested in any conversation. Or maybe he was avoiding it as much as Mark was. 

 

He didn’t dare glance at the boy sitting in the back. He felt like that would just spark some unwanted tension between the two and he wanted as much ease as he could. He didn’t like this whole idea from the start, so the easier it would be the more enjoyable it would be. If he could even enjoy it at all. 

 

Donghyuck didn’t speak the entire ride either. Mark half expected him to- he seemed like the kind of guy who started things just for fun. However he remained quiet and complacent in his seat, not even moving to create sound. It was as if he was as nervous as Mark was.

 

Abruptly a buzzing coming from his pocket interrupted his daydreams as he stared out the window. He quickly glimpsed at his father in panic, unsure of whether this was supposed to be a silent ride back home and he was suddenly ruining it, the person calling him was ruining it. His father just gave him a small nod of permission instead, then returning his focus to the road as if nothing had happened. 

 

Mark let out a breath of relief and pulled out his phone, taking one short look at the caller before he immediately answered.

 

“Hello?”

 

“You asshole, you didn’t tell me you were going to pick up the kid!”

 

Mark almost cringed. With precaution he turned down the volume on his phone before he continued. “How did you know?”

 

He heard Yerim breathe out a considerable sigh of disappointment before she answered. “Well, I called you a little bit after you left because you know, I thought you would of been home by then. It just told me you were ‘out of service’. So then I called your house and the guy who answered told me you were ‘out with your dad’. Are you kidding me?!”

 

“Listen,” Mark hushed his voice as quiet as he could, hyper aware that everyone could hear him in the ever-so-silent car. “I didn’t know either, okay? Can I call you back when I’m home?”

 

“Oh,” Yerim replied, sounding dumbfounded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were still there. Shit, he didn’t hear me, did he?”

 

Mark took the quickest glance at the mirror as he could to see if Donghyuck was tuning into his conversation in the front. To his surprise, the boy appeared to be unbothered by the fact that he was on the phone. Mark scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, however he quickly took his attention off the mirror before he noticed he was watching him.

 

“No,” Mark answered simply, not wanting to add anything else that might indicate that he was talking about him. “I’ll call you, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Yerim uttered. “Good luck, buddy.”

 

Yerim pulled her phone away from her ear with one swift movement and terminated the call faster than she usually did. She didn’t want the boy to be onto Mark any more than he probably was. She felt stupid for calling him without thinking for a moment that maybe he was still with him, however she brushed it past her. She had more important business to take care of.

 

She had bid Yukhei goodbye about an hour ago, after she had convinced him that editing her paper wasn’t the end of the world. She had grown to quite like the guy, even though the way they formally met was less than desirable. He had the sense of humor Mark sometimes lacked and was even able to lighten the mood when Yerim herself became too instinctively pessimistic. It was as if they had finally found someone to balance them out.

 

However, she couldn’t help but also feel worried. She knew that Mark was always conscious of the stupid yellow band on his wrist, making him stand out against the two of them. She knew Mark’s father was aware of it too, and as much as she wanted to pretend it didn’t exist she knew it wouldn’t disappear. She couldn’t help but wonder how long their perfect little friendship would remain untainted by prejudice.

 

_ Snap out of it,  _ she nearly slapped herself. Her feet were now planted on the fresh green grass of the Central University, with nothing but her backpack and a torn piece of paper with messy writing in her hand. Right now, her purpose was here, not in worry for other things. She stood in a mass of university students flocking to her left and right, walking past her uninterested as they made their way to their next class. Yerim didn’t know why she had yelled at Mark for not telling her where he was going when she was there, all by herself, with no one aware of where she was either.

 

She brought the torn corner of her history homework up from her side, glancing down at the messy address she had scribbled down in her futile attempt to copy it during her break between class. She had finally gotten in contact with the person she’d been bugging for weeks, the person who was going to help her with her final project on the Perfect System. She had done her own amount of digging and of course it had yielded basically nothing she hadn’t already known, however after scouring through some online forums hidden deep within the corners of the web she had stumbled upon them- a person who seemed to know more about the Perfect System than the common citizen. 

 

Yerim knew that was she was doing was probably in some way dangerous. Usually she could get information on anything with just a simple web search, but for some reason the information on the Perfect System that was available for the public was no more than what they were taught in school years ago. That probably meant that what she was looking for was something that the public wasn’t meant to know. 

 

However, Yerim never backed away from something so easily. Whoever this person was, they knew the information she needed for her project, or at least that’s what they told her when they finally replied to her on private message. They had posted on the forum that “there are secrets about the system they don’t teach in schools”, however that was four years ago. It was a miracle they even still checked that account.

 

And they were here, somewhere- at the address Yerim had finally squeezed out of them after hounding them day after day through private message: someplace called “Gaudium Cavern” at Central University. She wondered if they were a professor, someone who had done their own research years ago and was now teaching it to their students. Or maybe they were a student themselves- maybe they did their final project on the same topic Yerim was. It was all a mystery, however it didn’t deter Yerim in the slightest. Wherever they were, whoever they were, she was going to meet them today. 

 

Hastily Yerim began to blindly explore the campus, desperately trying to find any sign leading to a place named Gaudium Cavern. She had been on the campus grounds a few years ago when her class had visited, however that was so vague in her memories it was unreliable. Instead she followed where her walk brought her, looking at signs in dorm windows or office doors, looking for cafes or student meeting areas. There was nothing. 

 

Eventually she found herself in the library, the last unexplored place. Maybe Gaudium Cavern was a study area, a secret meet-up. However, even that yielded no results. She began doubting if the address the person had given her was real, and maybe she came all the way there for nothing. It was stupid, this was all stupid. 

 

Frustrated, she sat herself down at a desk, amidst the mass of studying university students. They all disregarded her, and Yerim didn’t know if she was thankful or not. A part of her was prying to ask someone if they knew where Gaudium Cavern was, and a part of her wasn’t. She didn’t want to embarrass herself and make them think some dumb Year 13 was asking them about a place that didn’t exist. However, she also refused to believe that this was the end of her first lead to any information. 

 

She didn’t feel like changing her final project topic- the Perfect System was something Yerim had been curious and passionate about her entire life, given her mother worked directly with it. She was employed in the city’s science department, and was a prestigious member of the board that overlooked the system. That was how she grew up with Mark- while their parents were in meetings together they would often play outside in the hallways. Somehow, however, Yerim still never picked up on anything  _ about  _ said meetings.

 

Even her mother was no help to her. “I can’t give out information like that,” she had told her. “But it’s amazing that you chose the system as your final project subject! I’m so proud of you!”

 

“Then give me answers,” Yerim mumbled to herself as she sat her chin in the palms of her hand, letting out an exasperated sigh. She was starting to wonder whose project was more frustrating- hers or Mark’s.

 

Suddenly she perked up. She was in a library- a  _ university _ library, at that. Who’s to say there wasn’t any books on the subject hidden in the shelves?

 

Regaining her excitement Yerim picked herself up from her seat at the desk and shuffled over to the nearest shelf. After skimming a few titles she deducted it definitely wasn’t a science shelf- it didn’t take long to find the science section however, even if it was a few floors up. It proved to be a massive section, as it took up nearly the entire floor. Divided into numerous subareas of study, Yerim began to search the shelves diligently.

 

In the end, she only found two books. Sectioned off in their own corner on the bottom shelf, there were only two books. Crouching down, she recognized one as the book their teacher read out to them when they took notes on the subject for the first time, much to her dismay, and the other was a small, old, thin book that looked like it would barely hold two sentences on the matter. How disappointing. 

 

It was only out of desperate curiosity that Yerim plucked the unknown book from the shelf, and later she was thankful that she did. She brushed her fingers over the title carefully,  _ The Incredible Work of the Perfect System _ , before she opened it, preparing herself for more disappointment than satisfaction.

 

However to her utter bewilderment two jarring words jumped out her her the minute she opened the cover:  _ Gaudium Cavern _ . Published by Gaudium Cavern. Yerim almost choked on her own breath, covering her gaping mouth. This wasn’t a coincidence, was it? There was no way. She took two quick glances to her side, looking to see if she shared the aisle with anyone else. There was no one. 

 

With adrenaline running through her fingers she leafed through the book’s mere fifty pages, skimming the lines for any new information, anything that could help her. As she did, her hopes soon began to plummet. Nothing. Absolutely nothing new. Yerim almost felt the urge to throw the book to the ground. 

 

That was, however, before she reached the final page. It was entirely blank, except for a crudely written series of numbers penned in blotchy, black ink. A phone number. 

 

Hurriedly Yerim dug out the same torn paper where she had written Gaudium Cavern on as well as a dull pencil and began to copy the number, not knowing what is was or who it was for but desperate to come away with something- anything at all. She refused to come away empty handed.

 

After she had copied down the number, she placed the book back on the shelf quietly, standing up with the piece of paper in her hand. She read the numbers again, wondering what kind of puzzle she was putting together. She wouldn’t be surprised if when she called it she’d have to solve some sort of riddle at that point. With a sense of victory she stuffed the paper into her uniform’s pocket and began to make her way out of the library, filled with excitement over her findings.

 

As she left, she wasn’t aware of the pair of dark eyes watching her, silently spectating her every move until she left the building.


	4. FOUR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY sorry for the extremely long time to update, this time of year is extremely busy for me and it will continue being extremely busy until like ?? march probably,, so if the updates are slow i'm really sorry!
> 
> but on a better note, this chapter is kinda long?? so i hope that makes up for it! i hope you enjoy!!

“Jaemin, what’s wrong?”

 

Donghyuck placed his belongings softly on the floor, sliding the barn door closed shut behind him. It seemed like no one else had arrived home yet- but he had expected to come home to no one at all. He had run his due of errands, Renjun off doing the same and Jeno was at his job in the factories, but Jaemin wasn’t expected to be home until much later. No, he was supposed to be in town, receiving more lessons from his tech teacher. Why was he home so early?

 

It wasn’t the fact that he was home so early that even put Donghyuck off- it was his entire demeanor, curled up into himself staring into their unlit fire pit in the middle of the barn, his face uncharacteristically dark. As Donghyuck approached him he only looked up solemnly, not uttering a word of explanation as Donghyuck took a seat next to him. 

 

“What’s the matter?” Donghyuck repeated cautiously, nudging Jaemin’s shoulder playfully to lighten the mood. It didn’t.

 

It took awhile for him to respond, and Donghyuck waited patiently. Jaemin was like this when he was upset- he became a shell of himself, retreating inwards to not burden anyone else with his troubles. It always left a concern in the back of Donghyuck’s head that there were things he never told them, terrible things he kept to himself because he didn’t want them to worry. He knew Jaemin was that kind of person and it pained him to be aware of it. It pained him to see him like this.

 

“He’s gone,” he finally muttered, his lips barely parting as he spoke. He refused to meet Donghyuck’s eyes.

 

“Who?” Donghyuck moved himself closer, closing the gap that stood between them as he wrapped his arm around Jaemin’s shoulder. “Who’s gone?”

 

“My-” Jaemin stopped as he choked on his own words, glaring into the fire pit with an anguished expression. “My teacher. He’s… gone.”

 

Donghyuck only nodded in understanding, not daring to press any further. He knew, and the others knew, that no matter what facades Jaemin put up and how happy he always seemed that this world was often too cruel for him. His heart was too big and his genuine love for everyone was something not many could preserve from the innocence of their childhood. And it was because of that that he was hurting so much. Donghyuck could see it.

 

“I didn’t even know his name,” Jaemin began quietly after a while, bringing his hands up to his face to wipe away stray tears. “He said it was safer for me that I didn’t know his name and that he didn’t know mine. He said if he was ever caught-” 

 

Donghyuck heard him come to an abrupt stop again and glanced up at him to see him struggling to form words, struggling to piece together what he was feeling. Donghyuck would of given anything for it to go away.

 

“He said that would be safer,” Jaemin finished himself, letting out a distressed sigh. There were more silent tears falling down his face and this time he let them fall, and Donghyuck watched in guilt as they did. He wanted to do something but there was nothing for him to do but sit there with him in solidarity. There was no way he could comfort him knowing his teacher was probably never coming back now that he was in the hands of the government. He couldn’t tell him he would be back.

 

“We’re all the same,” Jaemin uttered after he regained himself. “We’re all the same- it doesn’t make any sense. We’re all human.”

 

Donghyuck had tried explaining to him before that they were not the same as the monsters who lived inside the fence to no avail- Jaemin had too much hope for them. He had too much hope that they would change, that they would see that everyone was “the same” and that their humanity surpassed their labels. Donghyuck knew it wasn’t true, but Jaemin remained unmoved. All Donghyuck could do in that moment was embrace him as he cried silently, as he continued to stutter through his hurt and confusion. 

 

His teacher had meant the world to him. He’d been going to him ever since they left the orphanage together when they were twelve, after Jaemin had convinced him to teach him after he had done a presentation for their class. Donghyuck had only met him once- he was only maybe five years older than them, towered above them when they were little and always seemed to hide his eyes behind his just-too-long hair. He was a kind man, Donghyuck remembered- soft-hearted like Jaemin. And now he was gone.

 

“I should close the irregularity.”

 

“What?” Donghyuck perked up. “Why?”

 

Jaemin wiped a tear away hastily. “We installed it together, and now he’s gone. I’m the only one who knows how to shut it off, Donghyuck, what if something like that happens to us?”

 

“Something like what?” Donghyuck pressed him. He couldn’t close the irregularity, that was their only way into the city. Their only way in without being noticed. If they closed it now, who knew if they could ever open it again? How were they supposed to fight back if they didn’t have a way in?

 

“If they catch us,” Jaemin almost whispered, as if it was a forbidden topic. “If even one of us gets caught, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself- we should just close it. Please.”

 

Donghyuck met Jaemin’s eyes and it was almost as if he was begging. As if he was begging for them to not go anymore, to stay safe on this side of the fence. However, Donghyuck knew there was never going to be a place they were entirely safe. There was never going to be a place they would be able to live peacefully, live long and unbothered by everything. There simply was not a place like that. Not as long as the people in the city got to live as if nothing was wrong with the world.

 

“Who says we’re gonna get caught?” Donghyuck teased him lightly, trying to lift his spirits. “We’ve been doing the for what, few months now? I promise you, they’re not going to catch us.”

 

“But-”

 

His thought was interrupted by the door sliding open again against the dirt floor, this time Renjun poking his head through followed by Jeno, his face smudged with soot from a day at work. Despite that, however, his face was gleaming with laughter, along with Renjun’s, as they deposited their belongings next to Donghyuck’s by the door- they had probably caught each other on the way home. Out of the corner of his eye Donghyuck noticed Jaemin furiously flicking any stray tears left on his face away before the two turned and noticed them. He was, to his despair, too slow.

 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Renjun was the first to notice, trotting up to the two’s position next to the fire pit. Jeno wasn’t far behind him, catching up after he had locked the door closed. 

 

“It’s nothing,” Jaemin brushed it off, though Donghyuck knew Renjun and Jeno wouldn’t let that slide.

 

“It’s not nothing, buddy, what’s up?” Jeno walked around them and squatted down behind Jaemin, placing his chin on his shoulder. “There’s obviously something bothering you.”

 

Donghyuck glanced at Jaemin’s eyes and witnessed him trying his hardest not to let everything go right then and there, the brims of his eyes almost overflowing with witheld tears and his lips quivering ever so slightly as Jeno and Renjun pried more at him. 

 

“Do you think-” Jaemin finally spoke. “Do you guys think we should close the irregularity?”

 

“What kind of crazy idea is that?” Renjun responded almost immediately. “Is there something wrong with it?”

 

“No,” Jaemin spoke softly now, as if he was walking over thin ice. “I just-”

 

“We’re gonna be fine,” Donghyuck cut him off, giving him the greatest smile he could. “Do you really not trust in our abilities as the stealthiest men in the whole world?”

 

“No-” Jaemin spoke quietly again, obviously oblivious to Donghyuck’s attempt to lighten the mood. If anything he only worsened it- silent tears began to fall down Jaemin’s cheeks again, reflecting off the minimal light within the barn for everyone to see.

 

“Hey, why are you crying?” Renjun pried him, bringing himself closer to try and catch Jaemin’s eyes.

 

However Jaemin only shook his head ever so slightly and then lowered his head into his knees to hide himself as he began to cry again. Donghyuck watched with a pained heart as he did, beginning to regret his words. Jeno and Renjun sat there in shock for a moment by his side, unsure what happened and what to do. They both caught eye contact with Donghyuck and all he could do was shake his head solemnly. It wasn’t his right to tell them how he had lost someone that day.

 

So instead of prying any more they all let their arms fall around Jaemin in a close embrace, not daring to disturb him with any words that would only make it worse. And they all remained like that for a while- the three of them almost shielding Jaemin as he cried silently, seeming to let out what he had been holding in ever since Donghyuck found him alone when he arrived home. 

 

It only stopped as Jaemin lifted his head, resting it against Renjun’s chest as his own heaved up and down to slow his breath. He then closed his eyes, finally regaining control over himself. Donghyuck managed to slip his hand into his and squeezed it reassuringly, resting his own head against Jaemin’s shoulder as he battled his own plethora of conflicted thoughts. It was at times like these when his overwhelming urge to set the entire city on fire and burn it all to the ground became its strongest- burn down the labels, the prejudice, the system. However he also could see Jaemin’s argument. Close the irregularity, live under the radar their whole lives and hopefully never get into any conflict regarding the city. It had its own appeals, even if it was highly unrealistic.

 

“I don’t want to lose you guys,” Jaemin finally spoke, not shifting from his position. His words were uneven and hesitant but the point came through nonetheless.

 

“What do you mean? We’re right here,” Renjun ruffled Jaemin’s hair in an attempt to comfort him, shooting Donghyuck a concerned look. 

 

“I know,” Jaemin breathed, tightening his own grip on Donghyuck’s hand. 

 

Jeno leaned forward to place his chin on Jaemin’s shoulder again, sneaking his arms around Jaemin’s waist and clasping them together as if to prove that they weren’t going to be separated. “We’re always gonna be right here, got it?” he spoke in a soft voice, trying to give Jaemin a smile as he did. “We’re not going anywhere.”

 

It was a bittersweet statement, as all of them were feeling Jaemin’s worry and pain of separation. Even if Renjun and Jeno weren’t aware of why this conversation had come to be they still empathized with him, still tried to comfort him in any way possible. It seemed to work- eventually Jaemin wiped away his last tear and let out a small laugh as Jeno tried to tickle him, breaking the dark aura surrounding the four that had lasted for what seemed like hours. Everything was okay again- at least for now.

 

And Donghyuck watched from afar, watched himself and the others like it was a distant memory. It was only a few months ago, he remembered. He watched them as they all shared laughs and embraces.  _ How stupid were we _ , Donghyuck thought. He should of let Jaemin close the irregularity. How stupid was he to think they would of never been caught.

 

How stupid was he to make promises he was never able to keep.

 

And in a blink of a moment he opened his eyes, fixating on the smooth white ceiling above him. This was not his home. This would never be his home.

 

He had shut all the lights off to make everyone think that he was sleeping, but in reality Donghyuck was too awake for the first time in days to ever fall asleep. He was finally out of the prison, laying down on a neatly made bed and a puffy pillow and warm blankets to accompany it. His room was bigger than his cell he had resided in for over a week, furnished with a wooden desk, bureau, sitting chair and lamp. It all seemed so overly elaborate to him, and this was only one of their guest rooms. 

 

Nevertheless he was  _ out.  _ His window overlooked the city, Donghyuck leaving it open just to be able to breathe fresh air. He felt awful. How could he be in that overdone, fancy room while Renjun was somewhere rotting away in another cell, alone or with strangers? When Jaemin and Jeno were waiting for him back home, probably worried sick. It was all his fault, but yet he was glad. This way, he had some way of getting out for real. Of getting to Renjun and then getting the hell out of the city for good.

 

He sat up slowly, thinking the bed might of creaked at his movements, however it made no sound. Even though the only light came from the city lights outside his window Donghyuck surveyed the room again, and laid his eyes upon a photo hanging up on the wall opposite of him. It was the boy, Mark- except he was much younger, his face round with baby fat but his limbs carrying the scrawny look of a growing boy. The man who had been with him when they brought Donghyuck home was to his right, his hand on Mark’s shoulder looking like a proud father. To his left was a woman, presumably his mother, smiling into the camera with genuine care. Donghyuck wondered how nice it must be to even know his own parents like Mark did. His didn’t even find it necessary to leave him their last name on his chip. 

 

With caution Donghyuck swung his feet around so that his toes lightly brushed the floor, leaning ever so slightly off his bed to test if it would make any noise. It didn’t. He pushed himself off the bed as quietly as he could, balancing himself on the soles of his feet. He crept his way to the door, which seemed so far compared to his previous compartments. Step by step, he brought himself closer and closer to escape. Soon his fingers were creeping around the door knob, taking hold in an anxious grip. And then-

 

He let out a breath of dismay. It was locked. Of course it was locked, why would they of left it open? Was he delusional?

 

Donghyuck banged his head on the door in frustration, with not a care in the world who heard him. He had traded his first prison for another, this one only appearing more free in its looks. Of course they would lock it. Of course.

 

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck mumbled to himself, wishing Renjun, Jaemin, and Jeno could hear. He desperately wanted to see their faces again and just apologize, apologize to Renjun for getting him here in the first place, apologize to Jaemin for not keeping his promise, apologize to Jeno for making him return home alone. 

 

He turned around and sunk down to the floor, focusing his sight out the window at the tall buildings outside, the clear starry sky. It had no right to be that pretty. No right at all. Not while the world was ending like this.

 

\-------

 

Mark stood anxiously outside his door, his fingers playing with the key his father had supplied him. The window at the end of the hallway leaked of the morning sun’s rays, barely touching Mark’s feet as he was concealed by the soon-to-die shadows. He was in there, Donghyuck. He had tried to convince his father to get him instead but his response was only “it’s your responsibility, I believe in you”. Of course he believed in him, that’s what fathers were supposed to do, however Mark knew he would let him down at some point soon. And maybe it would be now.

 

He felt like he had too much power, standing there with the key in the empty hallway. He knew Dr. Frederick had said he wasn’t meant to be the discipliner, but that’s how he felt. Like the discipliner. It wasn’t a nice feeling.

 

It wasn’t even a school day that day, so Mark began contemplating if he even had to open the door that early in the morning. Perhaps the boy was sleeping in because it was his first time sleeping on a real bed, and he would just open the door for nothing. But then again wouldn’t that be easier, if he wasn’t awake? Or would it be more awkward if he was sleeping?

 

_ Get it together _ , Mark reeled himself in. He was overthinking, as usual. It wasn’t like Donghyuck was going to attack him- they made sure there was nothing in there he could use as a weapon before they locked the door last night, and he was on Dr. Frederick’s medicine. But then again, he hadn’t gotten his dosage today yet. What if-

 

There was a sudden loud bang that come from the opposite side of the door that made Mark jump back in fright. 

 

“Hello?” he heard Donghyuck’s dry, raspy voice on the other side. “Can someone let me out? I need to  _ go. _ ”

 

Mark stood there shell-shocked for a moment. Not only was he awake, but he was talking. Mark didn’t even know why he was surprised that he was talking, but he just was. He hadn’t spoken a word the other day, so he had assumed he wasn’t talkative.

 

Another bang on the door. “Hello?”

 

Mark stood uselessly for one more moment before he stepped back towards the door, jamming the key into the lock anxiously so that he didn’t upset him any further. He didn’t want him to get angry. 

 

And suddenly there he was. The two stood face to face as the door swung open, standing at the relatively the same height so that Mark didn’t have to adjust to see his eyes. They looked terrible- red, almost, with dark circles bordering the bottoms and droopy eyelids lying lazily over the top. He looked like he hadn’t slept a minute.

 

He didn’t delay his request for one second. “Where’s your bathroom?”

 

Mark was speechless for a moment, his mouth trying to form words. How was he even supposed to talk to him? Like someone below him? Like a friend? All he could hear was his heart pounding in his ears and nothing he thought made any sense.

 

“Over… there,” Mark uttered stupidly, raising his hand to point down the hallway. “The last right.”

 

There was a moment in time where the two stood staring at each other after Mark had given his directions, and Mark couldn’t figure out why until he realized he was in Donghyuck’s way. Urgently he shuffled to the side, making enough room so that he could comfortably pass him. 

 

And Mark never took his eyes off him. He couldn’t believe for a moment that this was all real- that he was housing a criminal for his final project. That he was right there, dragging his feet down the hallway in clothes that appeared to not have been washed for weeks. He was right there, but at the same time he wasn’t. He didn’t have the dark, horrible aura Mark had anticipated, had expected. He looked the same way he did when Mark had first seen his face on the papers his father gave to him, however it didn’t feel the same. And Mark was only even more confused and frightened by it. Who was he? Why didn’t he make any sense?

 

Mark supposed he was expected to wait outside the bathroom for him, so he lightly walked over to the door and leaned against the wall outside. He hated being confused. He hated whatever he was feeling. It didn’t make any sense.

 

Soon the door opened to reveal Donghyuck again, his face and the front of his dark hair seeming wet as if he had splashed himself with water. His eyes still looked terrible, however. Now that Mark was getting a good look at him, he almost wondered if they could of been red from tears. He dismissed the thought as quickly as it surfaced. 

 

Mark then found himself in a dilemma. He hadn’t thought that far- there he was standing in front of Donghyuck, unsure what was supposed to happen next. If he stalled for too long something he didn’t want to happen could happen, so he hastily ran through his options- which only furthered his dilemma.

 

To his relief, it was fortunately solved by the sound of footsteps walking up the nearby staircase. Turning his back to Donghyuck, Mark spotted his father reach their floor and begin to make his way towards them, with more intention and purpose than Mark could ever muster. He was thankful.

 

“Hello,” his father greeted them, stopping right in front of Mark. He regarded Donghyuck with a slight nod in his direction, then placed his hand on Mark’s shoulder, accompanied by what seemed like a squeeze of encouragement.

 

“I was wondering why you were taking so long,” his father commented, his statement directed at Mark but seeming like it was meant for Donghyuck. “Breakfast is ready downstairs,” he then turned towards Donghyuck, addressing him directly now, “if you’d like to join us.”

 

He gave a small smile to Mark and promptly turned around, making his way back down the hallway and subsequently down the staircase. It never ceased to amaze Mark how calm his father appeared in situations like this when Mark was his own nervous wreck. He was leaps away from ever being as functional as his father, and he wasn’t afraid to admit it.

 

Mark then swiveled around to face Donghyuck again, the boy wearing an expression of disbelief on his face. Why was he like that? Did he think they were going to starve him? 

 

“Are you hungry?” Mark offered him after his father had disappeared, awkwardly trying to maintain eye contact. Donghyuck didn’t seem to want to as much as Mark did, so he ended up averting his eyes down to Donghyuck’s dirty clothes. He supposed the holding facility hadn’t supplied him clothes to change into during his stay, so they were probably clothes from the outside. He wouldn’t doubt it by how cheaply made they appeared, barely holding together at the seams.

 

Donghyuck didn’t respond to him this time, he seemed too busy inside his own head, so Mark took the initiative to start his way towards the staircase, hoping the boy would follow him. Glancing over his shoulder as he arrived at the staircase’s first step, he saw Donghyuck slowly shuffling towards him, averting his eyes away quickly when he noticed Mark was looking at him. Mark didn’t like the feeling of being stared at while his back was turned, but it wasn’t like he had much of a choice. Turning his attention back in front of him, he started down the stairs consciously.

 

His house was comprised of three floors, unlike most who sported two at most. The third floor was rooms like his and his father’s bedrooms, guest rooms, study rooms. It was the floor least reached by day guests. The second was more of a typical residential space- sitting rooms, dining rooms, the kitchen and lounge area. The first floor was more of a business floor- that was where most day guests ended up residing, as it held his father’s and several of his partners’ offices, his own private conference room, and a grand, high ceiling room fit with their own bar where his father could invite and entertain his colleagues. Mark barely found himself on that floor- and he doubted Donghyuck would too. 

 

As he stopped at the landing of the second floor he waited for Donghyuck to catch up to him, making sure he didn’t continue downstairs and get into things he wasn’t supposed to. Donghyuck almost gave him a look of annoyance as he past him, Mark furrowing his eyebrows in response.

 

Leading him down the wide hallway Mark brought Donghyuck to their smaller dining room, the one he and his father typically shared in the morning. The window on the far side let in the strong rays of the morning sun, illuminating the glass light fixture above the small four-person table set with three glasses of water. The two stood at the room’s entrance for a moment before Mark gestured for Donghyuck to take a seat, which he hesitantly did after Mark’s motion. Mark hadn’t even seated himself across from Donghyuck before his father came out of the kitchen’s entrance, carrying two plates with an elaborate amount of food on them- of course he did, his father always had a knack for impressing his guests, as if their living quarters itself didn’t do the job. Mark was almost embarrassed.

 

“Feel free to dig in, boys, I’ll be right back with mine to join you,” Mark’s father addressed them, setting the plates and silverware in front of the two carefully. Mark caught his eyes for a split moment and did everything in his power to silently plea to him for help, however it went unheeded. His father disappeared again before he could even signal for him, and the two were left alone yet again across from each other. This time may of not been in a small concrete room, however the implications felt the same. Mark was supposed to help him and he had no idea how. He felt too awkward to even start eating himself, so instead he just stared at his own food, doing his best to avoid Donghyuck’s eyes.

 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” his father returned shortly, his own hefty plate in hand. He took his seat to Mark’s left, side-eyeing him knowingly. 

 

“Don’t worry, it’s not poisonous,” he then added, leaning towards Donghyuck to nudge him on the arm. It looked as if Donghyuck fought back recoiling from his father’s touch, scrunching up his shoulders and casting his gaze down towards him. Mark could feel his anxiety rising. The atmosphere was too tense.

 

So he took hold of his utensil and began to eat, over-exaggerating his reactions in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

 

“Wow, this is great, dad, seriously,” he spoke in between mouthfuls of food, glancing at Donghyuck every so often to see if he had starting eating at all. 

 

It was odd. Donghyuck was staring at the food in front of him with what Mark could only call some sort of double consciousness. He looked resentful, trying to avoid it with all he could, however at the same Mark could see a spark of longing in his eyes. He didn’t know what they fed him in the holding facility but he would bet anything that it wasn’t as appealing as what was now before him.  _ Just eat it,  _ Mark tried to send him his message nonverbally.  _ Stop being so stubborn.  _

 

His fake telepathy seemed to work- Donghyuck finally leaned in and picked up his utensil, warily bringing the food to his mouth. Mark and his father watched in unapologetic stares as he did, and Mark could feel himself slightly happy about the tiny victory. Maybe he didn’t trust them entirely yet but this was better than nothing. Small steps would eventually lead to complete trust, and the sooner that happened the sooner his final project could end. The sooner he could get a criminal out of his house and out of his life.

 

However, it didn’t go exactly as planned. The minute Donghyuck swallowed his food he began to cough, first lightly but it grew heavier each time. Mark watched him, starting to worry if he was choking. He wasn’t allergic to it, was he? He shot his father a concerned look, but his father ignored him, continuing his meal casually as if he didn’t hear what was happening. His heart was in his throat for a moment- what was going on?

 

However it was over almost as soon as it happened- Donghyuck abruptly calmed himself, looking up once to catch Mark’s eyes and then turning away quickly. Mark left his mouth open, wanting to find words to say but nothing forming on his tongue. And there was silence for too long, no one daring to break it for what seemed like hours on end, both Mark and Donghyuck not touching their food anymore.

 

His father finally spoke, setting down his utensil and lifting his head to address the two directly. “I see the holding facility didn’t provide you a change of clothes while you stayed there,” he said simply, nodding his head in Donghyuck’s direction. Donghyuck didn’t regard him.

 

“I’m sure Mark has some clothes that could fit you.”

 

Mark almost choked on his glass of water. He hurriedly tried to cover it up, feeling his father’s disapproving aura loom over him as he set his glass down. He then turned his head to face his father directly, giving him the best smile he could muster. 

 

“Right, Mark?” his father inquired, not breaking eye contact with him. Mark knew it wasn’t a question- it was a statement that he just had to acknowledge that he heard. 

 

“Right,” Mark replied warily, giving a small nod. He side-glanced Donghyuck across from him to see that he was watching the two of them intently, however like earlier once he noticed there was attention on him he drew away his eyes. Mark still hated that feeling.

 

“Well, afterwards you should show him to your room and find something presentable he should wear,” his father continued. “Company is arriving in an hour or so.”

 

Mark nearly choked again, this time on absolutely nothing. Company?  _ Today? _ Who could possibly be coming today, the first day Donghyuck was here? Who was so important that his father allowed them to come on such a transitional day like this? Mark could feel his anxiety going through the roof, he couldn’t help feel that if something went wrong it was his responsibility.  _ His _ final project. 

 

“Alright then,” his father interrupted his thoughts. “Let’s finish quickly.”

 

Mark took one last look at Donghyuck before he picked his utensil back up and began eating again, unwillingly aware of the tense atmosphere stinking up the room.

 

They ate in silence.

 

\-------

 

Donghyuck stared at himself in disgust in the mirror. Even though his own clothes were dirty and now held a terrible odor, he wanted nothing more than to put them back on. They were his last remnants of home, but now even that was gone. Now he looked at himself like a stranger in the mirror- dressed in a button-down white collared shirt, grey trousers complete with a grey jacket that he had left on Mark’s bed. It didn’t look like him. He had no idea who was staring back at him in the mirror.

 

He wanted to feel angry about it but he couldn’t bring his anger to the surface like usual. The medication had finally kicked in, the initial headache beginning to wear away. He was almost embarrassed at how bad he had taken it this morning, however Mark’s father had done an exceptionally poor job mixing it well with the food he had. It was bitter, and too much at once. 

 

However, whether he wanted to admit it or not, that was the best tasting food he had ever had in a long time, and he hated that it was. This place was so luxurious and pristine it almost felt like a joke to him, given the conditions he’d become accustomed to his entire life. Even the clothes he was now wearing were a joke. This was all a joke. 

 

And he couldn’t help feel guilty too. Guilty that this was supposed to feel like an upgrade from the holding facilities, but Renjun was probably somewhere much worse. He didn’t know how long it had been since he had last seen him, but it already felt too long. And now he was here, trying on some fancy clothes and dining like a king while he faced much, much more terrible things. It wasn’t fair. It would never be fair. And Donghyuck knew that guilt would never go away as long as he remained in this grossly luxurious house with boy who was supposed to “help” him. 

 

Mark was a joke too. It was obvious he was entirely clueless in this process, whatever it was, and that there were probably a million others more fit for the job than him. Donghyuck almost wished for someone who was mean to him- someone who yelled at him and didn’t treat him well. Someone he could fight with. He couldn’t fight with Mark. He was his age and had no idea what to do with what little authority he had. It was all a joke.

 

So he just had to figure out how to get him to actually help him. He knew it would be difficult to convince someone as brainwashed as the mayor’s son to aid him, but how unsure Mark had already presented himself as Donghyuck predicted it wouldn’t be impossible. Besides, as the mayor’s son he definitely had advantages- he probably knew where Renjun was, knew what was happening to him. How to get out.

 

“Hello?” he heard Mark’s voice from the other side of the door. Donghyuck sighed in annoyance- no matter how luxurious this place was he still didn’t get the luxury of privacy. He doubted he ever would.

 

He made his way to the door with fake urgency and opened it without saying a word, catching a quick sight of Mark standing outside waiting for him.

 

“Does it fit okay?” Mark asked, staring up and down at him like he was a child. Donghyuck didn’t want to utter a word to him but he found it was the only way to satisfy him. Unfortunately, he would have to engage in some sort of conversation outside of basic necessities.

 

“Yeah,” he responded indifferently, looking down at his bare feet. He didn’t want to ask, but he desperately wanted to wash himself too. The last time he did was when he was the first day they brought him to the holding facility, which he wasn’t even sure how long ago that was. However he didn’t want Mark or his father to feel like he needed them. He didn’t need them. What he needed was an escape plan.

 

“Ah, I should find you shoes, huh?” Mark muttered to himself, Donghyuck barely able to hear him. He stepped back once to allow Mark into the room, the boy walking over to his closet to retrieve a pair for Donghyuck to wear. Donghyuck watched him intently, watched his back and his movements, thinking to himself over and over what the best way to get Mark on his side would be. Maybe he wouldn’t even have to- that was preferable- if an opportunity arised. However his eyes dropped down to his blue bracelet and he knew that unless he could find some way to remove it his odds of not needing Mark’s help were very low.

 

“Here, try these,” Mark approached him with a pair of dark dress shoes, obviously not his best pair judging by how worn down they appeared but still fancy nonetheless. Donghyuck took them cautiously and placed them on the floor, slipping his feet in and rising in height a few centimeters.

 

They were slightly too big but Donghyuck didn’t feel like asking for anything more. They were a lot more comfortable than his worn through shoes he’d been accustomed to wearing- his heel even sunk into the insole a little bit to make it all the more pleasant. The guilt started to rise again. How could he be enjoying  _ shoes _ ? It wasn’t his place.

 

“These are fine,” he muttered, stepping back out of them. He lifted his eyes to Mark’s and found the kid at a loss for words for a moment, and Donghyuck almost wanted to laugh. He really had no idea how to deal with him. He was too much of an outsider.

 

After several awkward moments of the two standing in front of each other separated by only a pair of shoes, Mark finally moved to get him socks and a belt to complete his outfit. Donghyuck couldn’t turn away the feeling of it all being excessively overdone, but he didn’t resist any of Mark’s offerings. Mark then lead him back to the guest room he had slept in last night, telling him to wait while he himself got prepared. Donghyuck complied without thinking twice, however he became frustrated when he realized the door was locked again. He didn’t seem to get the luxury of trust, either. 

 

After a minute of leaning against the door, waiting for Mark to retrieve him, he found his attention drawn to the window. It was still open from the night before, and Donghyuck could hear the sounds of people’s excited voices at the curb of the street. Curiously he took his weight off the door and made his way towards the window, a sudden gust of air blowing back his hair as he peered outside.

 

There were people already arriving, climbing out of pristine-looking cars wearing expensive looking suits and dresses. What was this, a party? His instincts told him it might have something to do with him, but he hoped he was wrong. Mark’s father was outside greeting the lot now, shaking hands in a business-like manner and carrying brief exchanges with each person before he moved on to the next. 

 

As he drew in his head from the window he accidently hit the top of the frame, making an unwanted loud sound that carried to the ground. As quick as he could he drew himself inside before anyone could see him, but he already knew some of them must have. Great. He didn’t feel like being a spectacle today but he felt like that what it was turning out to be. They had fancied him all up to show him off. Their own little exotic showpiece.

 

He slid down the wall so that he was seated next to the window, facing the door and wishing it would never open. He didn’t want to see those people. He wanted to tear off the stupid clothes he was wearing. He wanted to be in his real home.

 

Soon enough he heard the door click unlocked and Mark peered in, now dressed in a similar-looking outfit. They caught eye contact for a moment, Donghyuck still on the ground with his knees drawn up and Mark standing in the doorway, observing him quietly. Donghyuck looked away as he began to open his mouth, not standing his presence at all. 

 

“The people arrived,” Mark stated simply, speaking slowly. “They’re downstairs.”

 

“Lovely,” Donghyuck spoke without thinking. He surprised himself- usually he had just resorted to ignoring him when he spoke to him. He was in a mood, however, so he supposed his response wasn’t so uncalled for. He looked up again at Mark, who appeared almost appalled. Good. He should be.

 

Donghyuck then rose from his seat on the floor and made his way towards him, heaving out a sigh as he did. He supposed he didn’t have a choice on whether or not he was seeing the company or not. He stopped in front of Mark, waiting for him to lead the way- even though he had already mapped out the way to the stairs from his room. It wasn’t difficult- it was only a few paces down the hallway. 

 

Mark made his way past other closed doors, Donghyuck a few meters behind him. Soon they were rounding the corner onto the staircase, on their way down yet again. Except this time they past the landing on the second floor, Donghyuck taking a glance down the hallway of that floor with little familiarity. They continued down, Donghyuck not saying a word and Mark remaining silent in response. 

 

As they reached the bottom, Donghyuck immediately wished he had stayed upstairs. The entrance hall was full of people, and as soon as one noticed them suddenly all their heads were turned in their direction- and Donghyuck knew they were all staring at him. The bubble of conversation died down to hushed whispers and their hawk-like gazes all ended on him, and he knew he had become the spectacle. He was the one from outside the fence, of course they were intrigued. 

 

“Mark, Donghyuck!”

 

The two craned their heads simultaneously to the sound of Mark’s father’s voice, near the front doors across the room. Mark began his way to them through the crowd, and Donghyuck knew he was supposed to follow him. However he didn’t want to step into that mass of people. He didn’t want their stares.  _ Well,  _ he thought,  _ I don’t have a choice, do I? _

 

Reluctantly he stepped off the last step and into the crowd, bowing his head low so he didn’t meet anyone’s eyes.  _ Stop staring at me _ , he repeated over and over in his head. If he wasn’t in this constant state of unwanted calmness he would of slapped the looks off those people the minute he laid his eyes on them. 

 

As they approached Mark’s father the conversation eventually rose back up, the shock value losing its effect. Donghyuck was glad. They stopped promptly in front of the man, who was greeting people as they filed in. After the last person entered, he finally turned to them in acknowledgement.

 

“How’s the surprise?” Mark’s father asked them excitedly, shooting Mark a wide smile. Donghyuck looked around, observing everyone in their business. How was this a nice surprise?

 

“I- I don’t even know who these people are,” Mark sputtered out, not able to mask his confusion from his father. Donghyuck watched like an outsider as the two conversed.

 

“They’re university ambassadors, Mark. I invited some from each university in the city to come and see you and your work,” he gestured to Donghyuck as he said the word “work” and Donghyuck was reminded yet again of how he was viewed. Right, he was just  _ work. _

 

Mark side-eyed Donghyuck as if he was uncomfortable with him listening in on the conversation, however Donghyuck didn’t care. If he was going to be stuck with him, he was going to hear every single thing he spoke about. That would be his punishment.

 

“Don’t you think it’s a bit- early?” Mark questioned him, hesitant in his words. 

 

“No, not in the slightest,” his father responded. “I was going to invite them tomorrow, but since that’s a school day less of them were available. Now’s your opportunity to sell yourself early, Mark. Take it.”

 

With that the man gave his son a pat on the shoulder as he walked away, giving Mark no time to argue. Donghyuck watched him intently, watched his face for any sign of weakness or rebel. However, to his dismay, Mark remained unmoved. He turned to Donghyuck with a straight face and held out his hand in offering.

 

“Listen,” he began, “I know you probably hate me and we haven’t had the chance to formally introduce ourselves yet but can you promise me not to do anything bad? Please?”

 

His hand wavered for a moment, and Donghyuck never felt more offended. Do something  _ bad?  _ He really thought he was a monster, didn’t he? He wanted so much to not agree, to do something bad out of spite, however he knew he had to take his hand. He had to build up trust, so that eventually he could get out. So he took his own hand and slid it into his, the two shaking their hands in agreement.

 

Then something odd happened. As Donghyuck lifted his eyes to meet Mark’s, Mark whispered a soft  _ thank you _ to him. It wasn’t a thank you in the sense that he had expected his compliance or that he was exercising his authority, but rather it was a genuine thank you. Like he was acknowledging him as an equal. And Mark left Donghyuck shocked this time, unsure how he was supposed to feel about it. 

 

Mark began to walk away, not leaving time for Donghyuck to answer. His mouth hung agape in confusion for moment, then he closed it shut. He wasn’t here to make friends, he told himself. He wasn’t here to become friendly with a Perfect. He was here to get out. He was here to escape. So he turned on his heel, following Mark like a dog. Build trust, that was what he was here for. 

 

Don’t cave in.

 

\-------

 

The party of university ambassadors lasted for what seemed like hours, with Mark’s father introducing him to every single one in exquisite detail, with each throwing their own questions to Mark pertaining to his final project and what it entailed. He shook hands with people he didn’t want to, answered questions he didn’t want to. It made him quite lethargic by the time his father called in the twenty or so people into his grand hall to serve them whatever food he had catered for that day.

 

Mark sat himself down on the last step of the stairs and heaved out a long sigh. He wished his father would give him warnings in advance of things like this. People visiting to see him, or perhaps a final project that he didn’t want. He gazed up at Donghyuck, who was leaning against the wall a few paces before him, not commenting at all on the matter.

 

Mark wondered if he had been too harsh before. It was a desperate situation that he couldn’t change, so he could only resort to being as straightforward as possible. However, now he may of ruined it. If he had hated him before, he surely hated him now.

 

And Mark was now unsure how he felt about him. The minute they brought him home he told himself he wanted his project to be over as soon as possible, for him to be gone as soon as possible, but now he was doubting himself. Spending the day so far with him had proved all his previous predictions false. Watching him follow him around and stand quietly as he spoke to all the ambassadors, he wasn’t aggressive, he wasn’t scary. And the more the day progressed the more Mark found sympathy for him.

 

But was he supposed to? How close was he even supposed to get to him? However the more he thought about it, the more he found it useless to view him as just his final project if he really was going to be part of his life everyday now. Maybe he should get to know him. Become friendly with someone from outside the fence.

 

He glanced back at Donghyuck, registering his poise. He looked stiff and uncomfortable- he probably hated this as much as Mark did.  _ Just get up and talk to him,  _ Mark urged himself. What damage could he do- if anything he could apologize for being so harsh before, get a good laugh out of him maybe. Or did he even understand humor? What would come across as humor to him and what would come across as hostility? It was all a mystery, and Mark sat there enveloped in different thoughts, different ways he could approach him without ruining everything.

 

Finally, Mark mustered up the courage to get up and initiate conversation. Even if Donghyuck didn’t say anything in return, he wanted to at least let him know he wasn’t trying to be hostile to him earlier. Save what little hope he had of building a relationship.  

 

However, his path was cut off abruptly by a woman, an ambassador he somehow hadn’t met yet. She slid in front of Mark with no prior notice, Mark almost colliding with her head on.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry-”

 

“No worries,” she replied easily, extending her free hand to Mark while the other held a glass of what appeared to be wine from his father’s bar. Mark quickly surveyed the room, wondering if he had already finished serving his guests, however she appeared to be the only one not in the grand hall. Confused, Mark took the woman’s hand in disregard, instead glancing over the woman’s shoulder to Donghyuck, who was staring at the woman’s back with an equally confused expression.

 

“I’m from Central University,” she began to introduce herself, distracting Mark from his initial purpose of rising off his seat on the staircase. He supposed he would entertain her for a little bit- like his father said, it wasn’t terrible to try and sell himself to the universities early like this.

 

“Mark Lee, right?” she questioned him after they let go of each other’s hands, giving him a warm smile.

 

“That’s right,” Mark responded with as much fake optimism as he could.

 

“Fantastic,” she said casually, pulling out what seemed to be a business card from her suit jacket’s pocket. “You don’t know me, but I’ve worked closely with Dr. Frederick recently and I’m intrigued on how your project is proceeding.”

 

Mark stared down at the name across the business card,  _ Ms. Lena Bak.  _ He then lifted his eyes to meet hers again, catching her inviting smile as she waited for his response.

 

“How do you… know him?” Mark questioned her, sliding her card into his own jacket’s pocket. He caught sight of Donghyuck over her shoulder again, this time his eyebrows were pressed together as if he was trying to figure out who she was. Ms. Bak noticed Mark’s lack of attention and followed his gaze, facing Donghyuck for the first time.

 

And Mark was surprised to see recognition surface onto Donghyuck’s face. How did he know her? As he watched Donghyuck’s face change he realized it wasn’t friendly recognition- he seemed suddenly full of hatred the minute the two regarded each other. The contact was over in mere seconds, as the woman turned back to Mark with the same cheerful smile as if she hadn’t seen Donghyuck’s expression in the slightest.

 

“We’re colleagues,” she explained simply, not elaborating any further. She took a small sip of her wine before she spoke again. “He’s told me all about Donghyuck- you wouldn’t mind if I spoke to him, no?”

 

Red lights were going off in Mark’s head as she proposed her speaking to him. She obviously wasn’t there to speak to Mark, that was now apparent- but it didn’t seem like Donghyuck was particularly interested in conversing with her at the moment. He began playing with his fingers, unsure what to do. He wished she would just leave and join the other guests, not interrupting what was going to be Mark’s first attempt to properly speak to Donghyuck. She was ruining it.

 

“He’s not particularly talkative,” Mark tried to wave her off, giving her an apologetic smile. “He just arrived yesterday, so he’s not-”

 

“I can make him talk,” she cut him off, finishing the last of her drink before she spoke. Her eyes looked glazed with some odd fixation on Donghyuck that made Mark uneasy, to say the least. She was supposed to be here to promote her university, why should she be interested in speaking to someone else other than him? However, for that reason, Mark found it difficult to give her a flat no as an answer. He was supposed to be appealing himself to these people, if he told her no when she was this determined how would it reflect on him?

 

Mark began to part his lips to stall for longer, hoping he could just avoid the entire situation by keeping her preoccupied until she was called back into the grand hall by his father or other guests, however his words were too late to catch her. She was already making her way towards Donghyuck, who watched her with dark eyes as she approached him. Not even an idiot could mistake the tension that obviously surrounded the two.

 

_ Great, Mark, nice job,  _ he scolded himself, running his hands through his hair francially. Should he go and stop her? Would that make it worse? He watched them uselessly, watching the exchange between them that made Donghyuck appear more distraught by the second. What was she saying to him? He hadn’t said a word back yet, however it was obvious whatever she was saying was getting a reaction out of him.. How on earth did he know someone who worked at a university?

 

His eyes caught her hand reaching down to Donghyuck’s right wrist, with Donghyuck flinching away at the touch at first but eventually allowed her to bring it up between them, seeming to point out his yellow wristband. Mark observed them without taking a single breath, watching as Donghyuck grew almost rigid as she spoke to him while holding his wrist. What was she saying to him?

 

“Lena?” a man called from the entrance of the grand hall, breaking Ms. Bak’s attention for a moment. Mark was partially glad he did, because the man did his own job of breaking up whatever was going on between the two when Mark didn’t have the guts to. The woman regarded Donghyuck with a small nod of departure, then caught eye contact with Mark for a few moments, exchanging an expression of thanks as she made her way over to the entrance of the grand hall. Mark watched her all the way, captivated by the curiosity of who she was and what her relation to Donghyuck was. 

 

After she disappeared, Mark snapped out of his trance and turned to Donghyuck, who appeared shaken up by the woman’s remarks. Gradually Mark approached him, caution dragging at his heels.

 

“Who was she?” Mark inquired once he was at a distance close enough to whisper.

 

Donghyuck held up his wrist again, pulling back his jacket sleeve to reveal his yellow wristband again. “She put this on me.”

 

Mark could only nod as a response, as he was unsure how else to. He then looked up at Donghyuck’s distraught eyes, wondering if he should even ask his next question. However, his curiously won over his common sense.

 

“What did she say?”

 

Donghyuck only shook his head in response, much to Mark’s disappointment. He then turned around to see Ms. Bak surrounded by other ambassadors in the hall, clinking together another full glass of wine with the others. His father walked up behind them to join them, his smile spread wide across his cheeks. Mark was unsure if he felt the same way.

 

But Donghyuck knew exactly how he felt. He was resisting the urge to bring his hands into fists, to scream out at that woman. He felt like he was shaking all over, out of anger or fear he didn’t know. But he knew he felt hatred. Her words lingered bitterly in his head, making him want to scream and cry at the same time.

 

_ I know where Renjun is,  _ she had said, sour wickedness dripping off her words.  _ You better behave if you want any chance of him getting out alive. _


	5. FIVE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god, it's really been six months since my last update and i'm so so sorry!! a lot of things came up, personal things and family things and school things, so my priority wasn't really writing this for a while. i'm back at it, though, and i hope i'm able to update more freely now since i'm graduated and i have the whole summer ahead of me! hopefully this chapter is worth the wait, and i'm so so grateful for everyone who's stuck around and waited for me! anyways, here it is!

 

_ Drip, drop. _

 

Over and over his eyes followed the dark reflective water descend from the shiny faucet, fall freely down in air for a mere second in time before it was obscured from his view, hidden by the walls of the crude white sink as it met yet another surface to be kept by. The droplets kept their steady tempo, never learning from the previous that their moment of freedom wouldn’t last any longer than those before them. He wanted to laugh- everything they placed in front of him somehow would always allude to the fact that he wasn’t in control. It was almost as if he never was.

 

He felt like he hadn’t seen the sun in ages. He hadn’t tasted fresh air on his tongue nor the breeze through his hair. It all seemed like a distant dream, a memory that seemed almost unattainable, unreal. Was it even real? Maybe his entire life had been spent here, in the dark small room where he sat, watching the leaking faucet across the hall through recently polished bars that were just too narrowly set that he couldn’t fit through. Everything was cruel like that- so little that he could still entertain thoughts of control, but just enough to remind him that he didn’t have any. And his new clothes scratched against his cold skin, making even the slightest movement full of discomfort. 

 

As much as he used to fight tooth and nail against the others to be left alone at times, he knew to be alone to this extent would eventually drive him insane. It was only a few times when he’d wake up on his unfamiliar bed and would think the walls were moving, the bars were moving further apart. And then he’d have to close his eyes again, whisper to himself that it wasn’t real, nothing was moving, and after his eyes opened again everything would be stationary again. They couldn’t keep him there forever, it was inhumane- even too inhumane for the Perfects. However in all the hours he was awake no one would visit him, no one would even walk past him. His food came from a slide in the wall that would open three times a day, and it wouldn’t close again until the tray was returned. There came no sound from neighboring rooms. It was just him, the walls, the bars, and the sink across the hall that wouldn’t stop leaking. 

 

The only thought that comforted him, that kept him sane, was his hope that Donghyuck was somewhere better. No, it wasn’t hope, he knew. He knew he would be okay because at least his wristband wasn’t red, and they would have hope in him. He knew Donghyuck wouldn’t like it and would probably try to resist everything they tried to do, but he knew whatever they were doing it had to be better than this. He hung onto that thought like a lifeline. If Donghyuck was somewhere better, he could push on. For how long, he didn’t know, but he could push on.

 

_ Push on, push on,  _ Renjun repeated to himself, falling back onto his bed off the side of the wall, wrapping his arms around his chest as he stared at the ceiling above him. He couldn’t see anything past that ceiling- it was as physical as it was mental. He couldn’t see past the present, couldn’t predict what was going to happen past any minute. It was suffocating, and he wanted nothing more than to break past the ceiling, see the light and see what was going to happen to him. However no matter how much he stared and how much he willed there was nothing to see but the condescending ceiling that mocked his very existence. 

 

It seemed like forever past before he finally laid eyes on another human being. A face whose taunt features were highlighted by the shadows as they blocked the light coming from the hallway, standing in front of the bars while he woke. He began to believe he really must of been losing it now, because the figure didn’t move for moments that dragged on past his sense of time. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came, he hadn’t spoken in a very long time. If he remembered correctly the last words that left his mouth were those to Donghyuck before they ripped them apart, and he had watched him fall to the ground as they dragged him out of their room. How many days had it been since then?

 

Eventually Renjun heard the ringing of keys and the clinging of his door sliding open, followed by the man outside bidding him to follow. Was he really leaving? Was it finally over? He knew he must of been inside his own head, however he still rose from his bed and shuffled towards the door hesitantly, coming side by side with the man who towered above him and had striking resemblance of the man who had caught him and Donghyuck those nights ago. It was driving him mad as they walked down the hallways, past other rooms and other pitiful looking people. It almost made him fail to notice the faucet had stopped leaking.

 

They took several turns and a ride on an elevator up a few floors, until they arrived at floor seven and the sudden beeping causing him to almost jump. The elevator’s doors slid open, revealing a sight he didn’t expect. It was a massive space, it couldn’t even be classified as a room. Possibly as large as the field in front of their barn, the middle was open so that he could see many floors below them, all the same in appearance with doors lining the walls no more than a few meters from the railing. He was led down the pathway from the elevator, taking it all in as he heard the echoes from other floors of people, of doors opening and closing. 

 

Abruptly Renjun was pulled back by his shoulder, the man leading him stopped in front of a closed door. The man jerked him back next to him, giving him a glare before he pulled out a card from his pocket. Renjun watched silently as he brought it up next to the door, and was left in confusion when a green light flickered right above the card, followed by a click from the door. The man reached out to open it, dragging it across the floor as if it was heavy. The room behind it revealed to be bigger than the one he was previously in, with more light and furniture. 

 

And there was a figure in the corner, settled atop the desk with his legs swinging in the air, his gaze seeming to be focused on his swinging feet before the door had been unlocked. Before he looked up to address them Renjun’s eyes were drawn to the slash in his hair just above his ear, clean cut as if it had been shaved off yesterday. As he lifted his eyes to meet Renjun’s they flickered like a small fire was behind them, and as they settled on the man who had accompanied him they seemed to ignite even more.

 

"Don’t make any trouble," the man uttered behind him, and suddenly Renjun found himself being pushed inside, nearly tripping over himself as the man unapologetically shoved him through the doorway. And then the door was closed again, clicking to signal that it wouldn’t be opened again. 

 

Renjun brought his eyes up to meet the other’s, suddenly being to sweat in fear. Everything about him seemed menacing- his eyes, his hair, his high position on the desk. He felt himself tensing up, unwillingly starting to favor the solitude of his first, dark room. The man lifted his hands from his sides, revealing a red wristband identical to his, and then he slid off the desk, starting to make his way towards him with the same fire in his eyes that sent Renjun into silent panic. He couldn’t do anything except close his eyes, waiting for anything to happen.

 

"God, how young are you?"

 

When he opened his eyes again he found the man standing in front of him, roughly his height with his own eyes staring into his with what seemed like pity. 

 

"What?"

 

The man then looked him over, settling his gaze on Renjun’s own red wristband. "What could you of done for them to send you here?"

 

Renjun suddenly felt defensive, hiding his wrist behind him to obstruct the man’s view. "I could ask the same of you."

 

The man almost scoffed, hanging his head down as he laughed as his feet for a moment. He then brought his hands to his hips, his demeanor changing as he lifted his head back up to reveal a wide smile- of happiness or sarcasm Renjun couldn’t distinguish.

 

"I like you, kid, you got the spirit," he chuckled, beginning to walk away, back to his perch on the desk. Renjun watched him as he did, noticing as he turned around the scars that poked out of his shirt’s collar. It sent an eerie feeling down his spine, watching the man before him suddenly act so calm.

 

"Where are we?" Renjun managed to get out, not moving from the space he had been standing in ever since the door closed behind him. 

 

The man sighed as he edged himself back onto the desk, gazing at the wall across him. "This, my friend, is the place of no return, so I suppose we’ll be getting to know each other quite well."

 

"What do you mean?" Renjun questioned him, trying to stomach the loose understanding of what he meant but not wanting to admit that he did. He wouldn’t outright say it, right? He wasn’t moved here just to be told more terrible, miserable news, right?

 

To his despair, he was only proved horribly wrong, as the man chuckled softly under his breath and turned to face him, something seeming like pity filling his eyes.

 

"No one gets out of here alive, kid," he spoke freely. "This is the last stop."

 

Renjun parted his lips, trying to find some snarky remark to challenge him with, something witty, something. Anything. Whoever that man was, he was surely a nut case. This wasn’t the end. He hadn’t almost rotted away in his measly little dark room to be brought to the end. He still had to find Donghyuck, get home, see Jaemin and Jeno again. But the man’s gaze, the pity the seriousness. It was all real.

 

Renjun let out a heaved breath, his mind beginning to swirl around different thoughts, different interpretations of reality. He couldn’t take it, how his mind was screaming. And suddenly he noticed the man’s eyes go wide and how he hastily jumped from the desk to run towards him as the room became blurry and his world began to turn upside down.

 

And then it was all black.

 

\-------

 

Donghyuck sat at the foot of the bed with his knees drawn up, his jacket flung onto the floor in front of him as well as his ridiculous shoes that he had been urging to take off for the past two hours. The company had stayed for too long, antagonized him for too long. And yet all he could think, all he could hear and all he could see, was the woman’s mouth as she formed those terrible words he did not want to hear.

 

_ Get out alive,  _ she had said.  _ Get Renjun out alive. _

 

How could he trust her? How could he know if this was just another joke, another mind game. The answer was he couldn’t. He would never know, and that was why he felt himself believing her words even if every single one of them was a lie. He had to believe her- if he didn’t it could only lead to more disaster brought on by himself. It would only further this mess.

 

"Hello?"

 

Donghyuck glanced up at the voice, its source coming from Mark behind the closed door. He wished he would go away- he put all his willpower into telepathically pushing him away because he didn’t want to share this moment of silent panic with someone who was part of the cause. However, he was growing accustomed to it, it wasn’t like Donghyuck held much of a choice anyways. After a few moments the doorknob turned slowly and Mark’s face appeared through the small opening he created.

 

Donghyuck didn’t give him the pleasure of his gaze. He instead focused his fiery eyes on his discarded clothes laying before him, hoping Mark would notice them and notice his defiance. He wasn’t in the mood for feeling apologetic.

 

"Um," Mark said prolonged, visibly noticing the jacket and shoes. They were probably expensive beyond Donghyuck’s imagination, however he couldn’t find an ounce of himself to care.

 

Mark shut the door behind him soundlessly, causing Donghyuck to finally tilt his head up in curiosity. What was his move now? Tell him off again? Finally yell at him and tell him he was bad and terrible and everything his brainwashed mind wanted to believe about the people outside the fence?

 

However Donghyuck was disappointed yet again. Mark’s eyes were soft as he gazed down on him, almost seeming sympathetic. Donghyuck felt himself cringing inwards. He didn’t need his sympathy. He didn’t need his comfort or friendship. And yet he dared stand there, leaning against the white door awkwardly in the looming, fragile silence he had left before him. Donghyuck found him almost more dreadful than any official he had encountered beforehand- at least their intentions were clear. However every time he so much as glanced at Mark he found himself confused, angry, and many other things he could not identify.

 

Breaking the silence, Donghyuck watched with low eyes as Mark brought himself down, crossing his legs and taking a seat a few meters away from him against the door. He let out a barely audible sigh once he was done fidgeting, and Donghyuck suddenly felt too comfortable. Too close.

 

And it was odd, because rather than what would have been expected, which was Mark beginning to initiate conversation, the silence crept back around them, clawing at Donghyuck’s throat with its tiring tendons. Not a word was spoken, not a whisper uttered. And every time Donghyuck dared to lift his eyes to watch him, he saw the boy trying. He was trying to form words, whether it told by the anxious expression plaguing his face or the way he sometimes took a breath to speak only to let it go and start right back where he was. 

 

The moment’s oddity didn’t waver for what seemed like hours. With every passing moment of time, Donghyuck came to realize even in the quietness they were still communicating- recognizing each other in silent regard. The way neither of them moved even slightly, how he began to notice their breaths became one in a uniform fashion. It sent all sorts of warnings off inside his head, that he was softening, he was giving in. That he had to remember his priorities. 

 

_ Don’t give in to their mind games,  _ Donghyuck wanted to scream at himself, however he then lifted his eyes again at the exact moment as Mark, and they caught each other for a moment.

 

And this time he didn’t look away. He held his gaze, held Mark’s eyes with his. Only one word came to mind as he observed him. While the rest of his body was tense, ready to flee given a moment’s notice, his eyes pleaded differently.

 

_ Lost.  _ His eyes seemed lost.

 

And as if it was some cruel joke a loud knock came from the other side of the door, causing their gaze to snap as Mark nearly sprang up from the sudden noise, making Donghyuck instinctively flinch away in response. As soon as he did he buried his previous undesired thoughts away, wished that moment had never happened. Wishing that he could just hate Mark and get on with it.

 

"Hello?" he heard Mark’s father say in a singsong voice, poking his head through the doorway as Mark slid forward to allow him in, bringing himself to his feet in the process. As he did he reached out to the jacket Donghyuck had carelessly left on the floor, snatching it up in his hands and bringing it into his grasp as if to make it seem it had always been there. Donghyuck did everything he could to not roll his eyes.

 

"Nice job today," his father complimented him as he stepped in the room, seemingly oblivious to Mark’s quick action. "I’m so proud of you, you know that?"

 

"Ah, thanks," Mark responded quickly, side-eyeing Donghyuck awkwardly. Donghyuck didn’t return the glance, and instead averted his eyes down back down to his knees, out of sight from both Mark and his father. 

 

"You should get Donghyuck a change of clothes afterwards," his father commented, now seeming to be on the topic of him. "The rest of the day is relaxed, so he doesn’t have to stay all suited up like that."

 

"Right," Mark affirmed, even though his eyes appeared hesitant. Good, it wasn’t like Donghyuck wanted any of his clothes anyways. He wanted his back- even if they were nothing but dirty, smelly excuses for clothes now. At least then he would feel more himself than he ever would wearing any of Mark’s stuck-up fancy clothes.

 

"I know you two didn’t get a chance to catch the food earlier, so I set out some leftovers downstairs," Mark’s father offered, however even Donghyuck could sense that the offer was more a forceful telling than anything else. Of course he wouldn’t want him to stay up in this room all day, it probably made him anxious to think of him being alone for that long.  _ They’re all the same,  _ Donghyuck whispered in his head, watching disinterestedly as Mark and his father exchanged a few last words before the door was shut, again leaving the two of them back in the enveloping silence Donghyuck had grown to despise.

 

Mark was the first to break it. "I’ll go get you some clothes," he said hesitantly, throwing the jacket in hand over his arm so it laid flatly. As he went to take his leave Donghyuck could tell there was something else on his mind, from the way his hand lingered loosely on the door handle for a moment, as if he was fighting within himself whether or not he should speak again. 

 

However, Donghyuck soon learned that Mark was the most consistent person he had ever met, because as he expected he left the room without uttering another word, leaving Donghyuck in another disappointing silence.

 

And Donghyuck let out a sigh, bringing his hands to his face as he scrunched up in frustration. He wanted so desperately to scream, to let out everything right then and there, however he remained silent. He had to. What could he do, when now he knew everything he did, everything he did wrong, was going to go back to Renjun? The woman’s words kept chiming in his head, over and over again, and he could feel himself falling into another headache. It was all aching- his head, his body, his heart. Everything was aching, so much that for a moment he didn’t move an inch when Mark returned with a change of clothes, beckoning him from the doorway he stood from.

 

He led him to the bathroom again, telling Donghyuck he was free to use the shower if he so pleased. Donghyuck didn’t tell him but he was grateful, even if he hated that he was, as it had been awhile since his last wash. And then as Mark closed the door behind him, the familiar sound of the lock clicking in place marking his departure, Donghyuck found himself alone again, accompanied only by his own reflection in the mirror. 

 

He reluctantly turned to face himself. Admittedly he had avoided himself that morning, only coming to do his business and give himself a good splash of water in the face to wake him up. In a way his attempt had both succeeded and failed- he  _ did  _ wake up, became more alert and whatnot, but he had still remained in this nightmare. 

 

Donghyuck sighed heavily as he observed himself. He appeared worse than he thought. There were dark circles cradling his eyes, and his complexion had become uncharacteristically pale. His cheeks seemed to have caved slightly, and he could tell he had lost some weight from those days in the holding facility- maybe refusing to eat those times hadn’t been of his best interest. However, nothing compared to his hatred towards his exhausted face, how drained and lifeless he looked. He was staring at a ghost of himself, that was what he was staring at. With a hesitant hand he brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose, where his interrogator from the holding facility had struck him. The bruise was gone, entirely gone. How long had it been? As he brushed his fingers across it he found it still to be slightly sensitive, but it still scared him how much time had already passed for it to heal. How long had he been there already, how long had Renjun been gone? When was the last time he saw Jaemin and Jeno?

 

He could feel himself starting to crumble, and in response he brought his hand out and slapped his cheek, not even flinching away.  _ No more crying,  _ he repeated to himself over and over in his head, leaning over the sink warily.  _ You have to stay strong. For them. _

 

And with that resolve, he managed to find some will to keep going.

 

\-------

 

Yerim desperately rang the doorbell once more, balancing on the tip of her toes as she tried to peer into the sizely grand door’s window that she knew was way out of her reach. Mark hadn’t answered any of her calls, much to her annoyance, and she didn’t exactly possess the patience to wait a day. Not with something like this. She sighed and brushed wisps of hair out of her face, biting her lips in frustration.

 

"I can lift you up," Yukhei said as he stood by her side, awkward and hesitant. When it became apparent to her that Mark wasn’t going to answer her calls she had instead turned to her new companion, knowing she couldn’t wait a whole day to keep it to herself. They had met the next morning outside the school, a midpoint between both their residences, and discussed what she had discovered over some breakfast pastries his mother had made for Yukhei and his "generous new friends", as she had so put it. Their district may of been one of the larger ones in the city but there was no doubt after Yerim had bit into the frosted roll that Yukhei’s mother had the best bakery out of the many that lined their streets.

 

But that was beside the point. As they delightfully consumed the pastries Yerim told Yukhei everything, from the supposed Gaudium Cavern to the phone number hidden in the final page of an old library book. It didn't take long for Yukhei's eyes to widen in obvious curiosity.

 

"It sounds like you're solving some sort mystery," Yukehi commented, holding the paper with Yerim's scribbled words. 

 

"I might as well be," Yerim replied, heaving out a sigh. "But think about it. If I figure this out, everyone will be so impressed with my senior project that I’m practically guaranteed a spot at any university I’d like. And my mom would be amazed too."

 

"Have you called the number?" Yukhei questioned her, handing back the slip of paper after he was seemingly done examining it.

 

"No," Yerim admitted. "I’m waiting until I get Mark’s opinion, but he won’t answer his damn phone."

 

Yukhei had a quick yet effective answer. "Why don’t you just go to his house?"

 

Yerim had felt so incredibly stupid that she brushed off the idea at first, but yet here they were, at the front doors of Mark’s substantially large residence waiting for him to come answer their requests for his presence. And Yerim felt even more embarrassed, because now Yukhei was offering to lift her up so she could see inside like he was some sort of attendant to her. She knew she was short, and she felt it even worse whenever she stood next to the giant of a boy Yukhei was, however she had too much pride in her to ask Yukhei to use his own height for her. Instead she stepped back, gesturing for Yukhei to take a step forward.

 

"You look in," she offered, knowing he would easily be able to peer inside if he stood on his toes. A blessing she had never received, yet for someone as big as him she imagined it was a double sided blade, bringing along a curse with it- like being able to spy more easily.

 

"Me?" Yukhei pointed to himself. "Wouldn’t that be… rude?"

 

Yerim rolled her eyes. "Please, he’s been rude enough to me with all these unanswered calls. Look to see if he’s wandering around in there."

 

Yukhei seemed hesitant, and Yerim began to wonder if he’d ever done anything remotely wrong in his life. He reminded her of Mark in that sense- it was always Mark that would try to hold her back from doing things that weren’t expected of her, or things that if they were caught would get them into trouble. He was the mayor’s son, she didn’t expect any less. 

 

But then again, she supposed Yukhei was sort of the same. He was an Imperfect after all, any minor infraction on his end would probably not go over well with those that didn’t like people like him living the city. Suddenly she began to feel guilty for asking him to do something like spy into the mayor’s house. How insensitive was she?

 

"Yukhei, never mind, you don’t have to-"

 

"I see him!" Yukhei exclaimed abruptly, interrupting Yerim’s words. Yerim watched him, confused as he seemed almost excited with his findings. "I see him, he’s with his dad in an office across the hall. There’s someone waiting outside the door on the staircase, and- oh, I think he saw me."

 

"Who?" Yerim grabbed his sleeve, dragging him down from the window. "Who saw you?"

 

"The guy on the stairs," Yukhei said urgently. He seemed to be becoming increasingly nervous, edging his way back upwards so to catch another glance. "He definitely saw me."

 

Yerim shuddered. It was probably the boy from the holding facility, the one Mark had left them to go pick up. The rouge Imperfect. Suddenly it made perfect sense why Mark hadn’t been answering her calls. She imagined handling a boy like him left Mark busy enough to not take heed of mere phone calls. She placed her hands on her hips and started tapping her foot as she thought on what they should do next. Should they leave? Should they stay? Were they even allowed here now that the boy was there? Yerim was too busy within in her own mind, different thoughts rotating in and out, to notice Yukhei calling at her quietly.

 

"Yerim!" Yukhei raised his voice slightly above a whisper, quiet as though someone was listening to them. It snapped Yerim back into attention, and she narrowed her eyes at Yukhei questioningly.

 

"Why are you  _ whispering? _ " she whispered back. "What is it?"

 

"He's coming."

 

"What?" Yerim wasn't whispering anymore. "Who?"

 

"The boy," Yukhei told her, and she stared at him for a moment in disbelief.

 

"What do you mean, 'he's coming'?" she asked anxiously, her plan seeming to be approaching failure. It wasn't the boy she wanted, it was Mark, yet apparently she was going to get the former. 

 

"He's coming to the door," Yukhei informed Yerim as she stood too short to see. Yukhei only stole brief glances in the window now, his face graver each time he pulled away. Finally he didn't look anymore, telling her that he was close enough for him to make out his eyes clearly. 

 

Yerim hastily pulled away strands of hair out of her face again, the slight breeze starting to get on her nerves. However, that was the least of her problems. She knew the entrance hall of Mark's house was a giant of a room, so she knew they probably still had time before the boy reached the door from the stairs directly across, but at one point or another he would be there, on the other side of the door. What if he didn't even open it? It was probably locked, they were just being overdramatic.

 

She looked back up at Yukhei, who stood bent down so that he was sure no one could see him in the window, looking as suspicious as he unknowingly could. Yerim almost laughed at him, amused at his efforts to hide from his now cursed height. "Yukhei, can you just-"

 

The click of the door unlocking made Yerim's throat close abruptly.

 

The two stood, frozen, until Yerim eventually snagged Yukhei's wrist and began to drag him back down the walkway and towards the street, not thinking twice, hoping they could hide behind the small bushes that separated the property from the sidewalk. She certainly wasn't about to have a confrontation with someone she didn't intend to, that was not on her agenda for the day.

 

"Yerim!"

 

Yerim stopped in her tracks, Yukhei almost colliding into her with his full weight. The fall was only stopped by Yerim awkwardly shoving her leg forward to balance herself, and Yukhei hopping lightly to the side before he came to a stop. It was a clumsy stop, but a stop nonetheless. Turning herself around, she saw Mark poking his head out his front door, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

 

"What are you guys doing here?" he spoke softly, with Yerim barely hearing a word he said.

 

"Oh, why are you whispering now too?" Yerim said in a raised voice, not a care in the world who heard her now. She stood straight and placed a hand on her back where she had strained her muscles in her quick attempt to save a scraped knee. "There's no secrets here!"

 

"Says the one running away," Mark commented plainly, still in a hushed voice. 

 

"Well, answer your damn phone calls," Yerim shot back as she began her way back towards the front entrance, Yukhei trailing her steps. 

 

"Now's not a good time," Mark told them, not moving from his place within the doorframe as they approached. Yerim found her eyes wandering past him, into the slit of visibility in his house. The boy was nowhere to be seen now, at least from what she could see. She then settled her eyes on Mark, now right before her, giving her a serious look. 

 

"I know you're with that boy now," Yerim began, beginning to turn down to her pocket where she had carefully stashed the scrap of paper that held all her curiosity. "But I found something that seems really cool, and I-"

 

"Yerim!" Mark's father materialized next to Mark faster than Yerim could even comprehend, and he opened the second door to allow a clearer view into the entrance hall. It was then Yerim spotted the boy, back upon the stairs, spectating their conversation with dark eyes. He appeared different than how she had expected from his headshot on Mark's papers- smaller, if that was the word.

 

"How are you today?" Mark's father reached out and patted Yerim's shoulder, jolting her attention back towards what was in front of her. She smiled politely, bringing her hand back out of her pocket empty.

 

"I'm doing well, and you?" she replied courteously, stealing Mark a glaring look while his father's attention focused on Yukhei.

 

"I'm great. And Yukhei!" he said happily, extending his hand between her and Mark to welcome the giant boy next to her. "I'm glad to see you around again."

 

Yukhei returned his smile, and after Yerim confirmed that the exchange between wouldn't be undesirable, she let her gaze settle on Mark again. He was anxious, as he often was, but something about it this time seemed off. She knew him well, she knew when things weren't right. She could only assume it had something to do with the criminal boy he had picked up, seated on the staircase still watching them with a strange intent. She came to the conclusion that this meeting wouldn't entirely be focused on her findings from yesterday- if he even  _ let _ them in.

 

"What brings you guys here?" Mark’s father inquired, glancing to his side to his son, who immediately shrugged his shoulders in defence. Yerim wanted so desperately to roll her eyes at him, however she knew she had to act with at least some dignity when she was around his house. It was the home of his father, who happened to be the mayor of the city- someone everyone had to act with dignity around, even Mark himself.

 

Yerim straightened her chin and answered his father truthfully. "Mark hasn’t been answering his calls, so I figured- actually, Yukhei figured- that we should just come see him in person."

 

"Ah, I see," Mark’s father nodded, and then turned to Mark again. "They can stop and visit, right?"

 

"Now?" Mark had blurted, and it took Yerim everything she had to not drive her foot into his shin. Yes,  _ now.  _ She had been waiting long enough. 

 

"Why not?" his father countered, stepping back to allow space for Yerim and Yukhei to pass through. Yerim lingered for a moment, catching Mark's eyes once more and noticing how they were almost pleading her to not pass. She began to doubt whether she should force her way in or not, wondering if it was her place to barge in when the boy sat right there. She idled, thinking. However much she tried to justify her reasons, she couldn't shake the odd atmosphere she sensed from the house in front of her. Which of them would prove to be more stubborn, she thought- the one who housed a criminal or the one who had secret findings to share?

 

"You know what, I'll see him tomorrow at school," Yerim decided for herself, settling her weight onto one foot. "We'll talk then." As she spoke she made an effort to give Mark a look of pressure, making sure he  _ knew  _ they would be speaking tomorrow. It wasn't often that she caved in before Mark did, often it was herself planting her foot in the ground and being the more stubborn of the two- however she knew something about Mark's face was peculiar, that something didn't seem in the right. For once, she forced her stubbornness down her throat.

 

"Okay, then," Mark's father responded, stepping forward to fill the space he had made for Yerim and Yukhei to pass through, seemingly confused. Mark silently sighed, presumably out of relief, and mouthed a  _ thank you _ to Yerim, who took it as a form of apology. It was alright, he would have plenty of time to apologize in truth tomorrow. She gave him a slight nod of her head in acknowledgement, then smiled at his father as she bid him goodbye.

 

"Come on, Yukhei," Yerim made haste as she spun on her heel, making her way down Mark's walkway for a second time within five minutes. She would spare Mark the expense of a goodbye- their conversation wasn't finished yet, and he knew it. They never said goodbye when they had unfinished business.

 

She heard Yukhei sputter out a few rushed goodbyes before he made his way after her, slowing to her side after he'd left Mark's front doorstep. The two strode on in silence for a few moments before Yerim heard Yukhei take in a small breath.

 

"What was that?" he asked innocently. "Who was that guy, the one on the stairs?" Yerim listened to him, however she dismissed as to not tell him anything Mark wasn’t ready for him to know yet.

 

"Nothing," she told him, rounding a corner before she stopped in her tracks. She then turned around to face Yukhei, hands on her hips as she was deep in thought.

 

"What is it?" Yukhei questioned her, moving to the side as people passed them hurriedly. 

 

Yerim clicked her tongue in her mouth, finally looking back up at Yukhei as she had settled her thoughts. "I don't think I can wait around for him. Let's call the number."

 

"Us?" Yukhei seemed dumbfounded, narrowing his eyes in confusion. "Right now?"

 

"Yeah, right now," Yerim confirmed, not only for Yukhei but for herself. It had been itching at her ever since she copied the sequence onto her paper the day prior, and now that she knew Mark had his own problems troubling him, whatever they may be- though Yerim suspected it had something to do with the boy- she didn't want to add onto his worries with her own discoveries. Not that it was worrying, but Mark was the type to worry about things that didn't seem entirely clear and upfront.

 

The two reconvened at their meeting place outside the school, taking a seat at the same picnic table the three of them had used to swap essays with the day before. As Yerim brought out the scrap of paper with the number scribbled on, the figures barely legible now with the amount of times she had crumpled and folded the paper into small places, she couldn't shake the feeling of nervousness crawling up her spine. What was she to be nervous about? It was a number, no more and no less. The only reason she could think of was her lack of knowledge on who would be on the other end, yet that didn't seem it.

 

"Ready?" Yerim spoke, pushing down her anxieties and setting her phone down in between her and Yukhei, who sat across her on the other side. He nodded, leaning over the table in full engagement.

 

Holding her breath, Yerim hit the call button. She had entered the number and put the call on speaker before she laid her device between them, and she felt herself become suddenly giddy with anticipation as the call went through and began to ring, the silence in between each only disturbed by their hushed breaths. She truly felt like a detective now- making calls to unknown numbers she got out of an old library book. It was almost like the movies, the way everything played out, the way she and Yukhei were waiting for whoever would answer.

 

The call rang for what seemed like hours, every silence making Yerim even more anxious as she waited for something to happen, someone to pick up, a message, anything at all. But nothing came. She bit the inside of her lip, beginning to become inpatient.

 

And then it happened. The call clicked, and Yerim heard the both of them draw in their breaths, not daring to make a sound as they listened intently.

 

“We're sorry, the number you called is no longer active,” a robotic voice echoed through the speaker, delivering news Yerim had dreaded.

 

_ No,  _ she thought.  _ That's not possible.  _ She took her phone from the table examining the number as if something wasn't showing, something wasn't making sense. Her only lead on the Perfect System, and it wasn't active anymore? It couldn't be. She wouldn't believe it.

 

"Yerim," Yukhei said softly, obviously sensing her disappointment. "Did you enter it wrong?"

 

"No," Yerim answered immediately as she took the paper that she left on the table in her hands, comparing the sequence over and over, every time not finding any error. She didn't want this to be a dead end, she really didn't, however the more she ran through her own thoughts the more she saw the new wall, looming over her almost mockingly.  _ A dead end, a dead end _ , it echoed.

 

"Useless," Yerim muttered, dropping her phone back down onto the wooden surface and placing her elbows on either side, propping her chin up as she contemplated in her disappointment. 

 

"Maybe not," Yukhei encouraged her, although Yerim only returned him a skeptical look. "Maybe it's not a number. Maybe it's something else."

 

"What else could it be?" Yerim asked dubiously, unconvinced.

 

Yukhei shook his head, obviously as lost as Yerim was. "I don't know. An address, a street number, anything really."

 

"What address has seven numbers in it?" Yerim's face fell into her hands, her mouth breathing out a heavy sigh. "It's useless, I'm back at zero."

 

She heard Yukhei draw in a breath, undoubtedly to try and attempt to console her, however he didn't speak a word. Yerim sat still for a moment, rolling through all sorts of different scenarios in her head, many of which involved her not meeting a wall here and instead going on to discover much more, making the documentary of a lifetime that would win her much respect from all citizens of the city, however every time she came back to reality. Reality was this, and reality was disappointing.

 

"Come on, let's go," Yerim mumbled in defeat, rising from her seat on the bench and making her way towards the school's front gates. Yukhei following in close proximity, seeming intimidated by Yerim's mood. She wasn't surprised- Mark always told her she was scary when things didn't go her way. 

 

As she made her way down the street, towards her house after she'd bid Yukhei away after his countless offers of accompanying her home, she spotted one of the city's many trash bins along the sidewalk. She drew out the paper from her pocket half-heartedly, gazing down at her rushed handwriting and almost scowling. How had she let herself become so hopeful? She made her way towards the bin, raising her hand over the top to drop the waste, however she lingered. A part of Yerim still believed there was something, something she missed. She didn't want to give it all up yet.

 

However people were now watching her, walking by with odd looks as they watched a girl hold her hand over a trash bin with a sad look in her eyes. Yerim shook her head, making her decision.  _ Be done with it,  _ she told herself, and she opened her hand. After it was done, she was on her way again, the small drop of regret being buried by her will to find something else.

 

And dark eyes were watching her again, hidden by the shadows, watching as she made her way home.

 

\-------

 

This was the day Mark had come to dread more than any other, even more than the day he had first brought Donghyuck home. When he woke, he glanced at his alarm clock sitting idly at his bedside table, blinking a stark three o’clock back at him. He could barely sleep. The day before had left with enough unpleasantries to make his stomach uneasy, from his father’s surprise party for the college ambassadors to the woman who had made Donghyuck so visibly uncomfortable that it had translated onto Mark himself. He hadn’t been able to speak to him the rest of the day, he was so caught up in his mind that his words were twisted on his tongue, unable to free themselves. He had simply locked Donghyuck in his room the rest of the day, only calling him down for dinner and to wash up before bed. He felt pitiful- he was doing such a terrible job at this, he knew. He was doing so terrible that even his father had pointed it out, calling him in his office to lecture him while Donghyuck had waited outside, being ever so obedient to the point that Mark felt sorry for him.

 

And then Yerim and Yukhei had shown up at his front door, speaking of something she found that she thought was "cool". He wished he could listen to what she would tell him hear what she had found, invite her and Yukhei inside and bring them up to his bedroom where she could tell him everything, and they could laugh and smile like normal people. Mark didn’t know if he could ever do such a thing for a while. Now he had Donghyuck, who always had to be with him, and that wouldn’t change so long as he bore his blue bracelet on his wrist. As he sat his bed in the darkness, only illuminated by the moonlight outside his window, he rubbed his skin around the blue device, a sick feeling in his gut surfacing as he did. He didn’t like feeling restrained by this thing, he didn’t like it at all. He could only imagine how people like Donghyuck and even Yukhei felt.

 

And now he was approaching an entirely different animal. At least at the party, at least around professional adults, he knew there would be no ill actions directed towards him or Donghyuck. At least he knew that. At school, he did not know. He had to bring Donghyuck with him everywhere, and everywhere meant school. What would they think? What would they think of him, the mayor’s son bringing in a criminal linked to him by nothing but two simple bracelets? For what seemed an hour he sat in the dark fixated on the simple fact that there were no empty desks in his classroom, that there was nowhere for him to sit, where would he sit? He watched as the sun rose over the high rises of the city outside his window, he watched the sleeping city wake and the streets begin to busy, and he still couldn’t fathom walking into school with Donghyuck in tow. He couldn’t.

 

Mark rapped on his father’s door anxiously, standing outside in his night clothes and slippers. His father’s room was the one at the complete other end of his hallway, next to the window that always drew in the morning light to fill the corridor with some semblance of lighting in the early hours of the day. He waited patiently, playing with his fingers as he did. What was he expecting to get from his father? He knew he would only tell him how it was: he had to do what he was supposed to, and that he believed in him because he was his son and the mayor’s son never backs down from a challenge. How soon would it be before Mark utterly disappointed him? How long would it be before his father look down on him with pity, with regret in putting his trust in him? It could only be so long.

 

The door opened shortly, revealing Mark’s father, his eyes squinting as if he had just woken. For a moment Mark considered just turning back down the hall, back to his own, not bothering his father over what he was fretting about this early in the morning hours. But he stood still.

 

"Mark?" his father addressed him sleepily, rubbing his eye. "What’s wrong?"

 

Mark was without words for a moment, opening and closing his mouth like a child that couldn’t yet speak. He quickly felt embarrassed, as if he had no right to be there. Foolish, he was foolish.

 

"Mark," his father repeated, however this time in a softer tone. "Come in."

 

Mark still didn’t utter a word, instead brushed past his father to enter his room. It seemed like ages ago he had ever entered his father’s room by his own request. He remembered when he was a child he would oftentimes come here in the middle of the night, running to his father’s bedside weeping from the nightmares that used to plague his sleep. His father would console him, hold him in his arms and offer him a spot next to him in bed, promising to protect him from the demons that visited him in his sleep. That was years ago. The room was still largely the same, as Mark’s father wasn’t one for having over-extravagant bedrooms- there was simply the bed, a dresser with a mirror, several picture frames scattering its surface, a lamp, a bureau. As Mark’s father closed the door behind him he could feel the memories coming back, and he desperately shoved them aside.

 

"Mark, what’s bothering you?" his father questioned him, sitting down on his bed. "Have you not slept?"

 

"I don’t think I can do this," Mark blurted, turning to his father with pleading eyes. "I- I haven’t slept at all, I don’t think I’m the right person to do this." He paused, searching his father’s eyes for something, anything. "I’m sorry."

 

His father only sighed in response, and Mark knew it had come. The moment. The moment he disappointed him. It hurt like a knife to the heart at his stood there, being totally truthful for the first time. What would he think of him now?

 

"Come sit," his father told him, patting the space next to him on his bedside. Mark hesitantly took his offer, shuffling over to join the man. The bed creaked as he added his weight to it, and Mark couldn’t bring himself to meet his father’s eyes. There was no way he could.

 

"Why do you think that way?" his father asked him, throwing an arm around his shoulder. "You’re my son. You can do anything you put your mind to."

 

Mark knew he would say that. He found what he wanted to say lodged in his throat, he wanted to tell him that he couldn’t, but all he could do was shake his head solemnly. It was all too much, too much for him.

 

"Mark," his father patted his shoulder, shaking him around a bit. "I know you doubt yourself a lot." That stung, to say the least. He knew it was true, but hearing it from his father’s mouth made it all the times worse. "But you’re a man. You’re not the child you were years ago. You’re capable of doing so much good."

 

_ Am I?  _ Mark questioned his father’s words, as if they weren’t the exact ones he had come to hear. What  _ did  _ he want to hear? What could convince him to follow through, to do the good his father thought him capable of doing? He did not know. He knew nothing, as it seemed.

 

"That boy needs you," his father continued after he got no response from him. "He comes from an incredibly misguided mindset, and he needs help. He needs someone to guide him."

 

"But that’s not me," Mark spoke barely above a whisper, as if he were afraid to admit it. He was, he thought. He was afraid. "It’s not me."

 

"And why not?" his father countered, taking his chin in his hand and pulling Mark’s face to face his, which was hard set on encouragement. "Why not you?"

 

"Because," Mark insisted, throwing his shoulders up in defeat. "I’ve tried, I’ve tried to talk to him, tried to interact, but I can’t. I’m not- I’m not good at it. I’m sure he hates me, and I wouldn’t blame him." Mark felt his stomach churning as he spoke, still not able to say fully what he meant. Did he want his father to be even more disappointed in him? If so, he felt he was succeeding excruciatingly. 

 

"You’ve been with him for two days," his father reminded him, and Mark felt all the more embarrassed. Only two days, and he was already like this. How much more pitiful could he become before he could never recover?

 

"I was just like you, you know," his father said suddenly, and Mark furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. What did he mean? "I was young and inexperienced once, afraid of any kind of responsibility."

 

"You?" Mark said, extremely skeptical of his father’s words. He didn’t strike him as someone who was ever unsure of himself, he was always so confident, so sure in his ways.

 

"Yep, me," his father chuckled, bringing his arm back from Mark’s shoulder. "I remember the day my own father told me I should run for mayor. I told him he was crazy, I had just graduated from university, mind you. I only ever imagined running a business, not running a city. And you know what he said to me?"

 

"What?" Mark inquired, although he had yet but a clue as to why his father’s story was relevant to his own.

 

"He said, ‘The bigger man always takes the bigger path’," his father recited as if it were from a religious textbook. He then looked at Mark, a big smile spread across his face. " _ You  _ are the bigger man, Mark, and this is the bigger path."

 

Mark only felt himself caving in slowly. His father would never understand, he could never make him understand. He could never  _ be  _ like him, no matter how much his father still believed in him. He almost wanted him to be disappointed in him now, he wanted him to be so disappointed that he sent the boy back and he allowed him to do a smaller, less-responsible final project. He wished, he wished. 

 

"Mark?" his father spoke, bringing out his hand to pat his thigh. "You can do it."

 

Mark only nodded, not finding any use to argue against his father any more. His father was a man who didn’t know the feeling of uncertainty, he knew, he didn’t know the feeling of self-doubt. He was the mayor, he didn’t have room for those kind of feelings. He had won the city over countless times in countless elections- a man who doubted himself would of never been to accomplish such a feat. His father was the mayor who had managed to be re-elected the most amount of times in the city’s history, yet his son managed to be the most pitiful person in the city’s history, unable to take any challenge. That was him, that was Mark.

 

"Come here," his father offered, and he opened his arms to his Mark a large embrace. Mark was grateful. In front of people, in front of anyone but Mark, his father was all business. He would give him pats of reassurance, sure, but never would Mark’s father embrace him like this when the likes of others were in their presence. This was the side of his father only Mark got to see. And even though his father didn’t quite understand him, even though he didn’t quite understand his dilemma, he wasn’t cold. He was warm, actually, as he always was, as fathers’ hugs always were, big and warm and protective. And they always recharged his spirits.  _ Maybe I can do it,  _ Mark thought as he rested his chin on his father’s shoulder.  _ I can try. _

 

When Mark left the room the hallways were well lit by the rising sun, the sounds of birds chirping outside filling his ears from the open window. He took a moment to gaze outside, down the tree stories where he stood to the sidewalk, empty save one person across the street who seemed to be in a hurry to be somewhere in the peak of the morning. He sighed to himself, leaning against the windowsill for a moment. He supposed there was no backing out now, even if it drove his worries through the roof.  _ I’m the bigger man,  _ he told himself, repeating his father’s seemingly useless words of advice to himself as he made his way back towards his room, passing Donghyuck’s locked door as he did. This would be the second morning he retrieved him, the second out of many to come. Hopefully in the days soon coming he could convince the boy to not hate him, maybe he himself could lose his awkwardness and his fear and his anxiety. Not likely, but he could try.

 

The morning proceeded as successfully as the last had. After Mark had gone to his room and dressed himself, avoiding looking at his mirror so he didn’t have to see the grotesque dark bags under eyes from not sleeping the night prior, he snatched the key from his dresser and made his way to Donghyuck’s room, stalling the same way he had the day prior as he lost himself in his thoughts of what would happen when he  _ did  _ open the door. Unfortunately Donghyuck never knocked obnoxiously on the door as he did last morning, so Mark was left to open it on his own accord, much to his dismay. After four or five times of hyping himself up, inserting the key and taking it back out again after he convinced himself it was too early or some other excuse he mustered up, he finally turned the key and opened the door, his heart pounding so furiously he was sure Donghyuck heard him even before he opened it.

 

He was sleeping.

 

Mark stalled within the doorway, spotting the boy immediately, laid down on the bed with nothing covering him. It seemed he hadn’t dared to touch the comforters or blankets, the bed appeared barely disturbed. For a moment Mark doubted his judgement, maybe Donghyuck was just putting up the act of sleep so that he may take him by surprise, but the deep breaths he took couldn’t deny his slumber. He was, for all intensive purposes, asleep. Sound asleep, more so. His face opposed the wall, his arms brought up underneath his cheek and his legs crossed and scrunched up so that he seemed to take up the least amount of space he could.

 

Mark wanted to leave him like that, he really did, because for once he looked peaceful and didn’t have that face of scrutiny he seemed to always bear. He was relaxed, dare he say. Mark didn’t want to disturb him. However, nothing would change the fact that he  _ had  _ to, lest he wished for his first absence that he had worked ever so diligently to avoid. Even if he liked the thought of not having to brave the school front today, he knew eventually he would have to, eventually he would be forced to by someone and no matter how much he protested against it, it would all be in vain. It didn’t matter if there were no open seats in his classroom for Donghyuck, none of that mattered now no matter how much it made his stomach churn and his throat seem to close up. This was happening, this was happening now.

 

Slowly he crept into the room, feeling as if he were trespassing even though it was his own guest room. His steps were silent and unsure, yet somehow he managed to get himself to the side of the bed without waking Donghyuck. Mark stood over him, holding his breath, feeling as if he were invading someone’s personal space. He  _ was,  _ but it wasn’t like he was doing so willingly. He had been forced to give up his personal space the day he put on that stupid blue bracelet. He glanced down at the thing on his wrist once more, then he found the same one around Donghyuck’s, almost tucked away from his view. They were bound to one another, Mark realized once more, as he had countless times over the past two days. They really were bound to one another.

 

Mark knew he was useless in all sorts of ways and this, he found, was definitely one of them. He raised his hand more than once to shake the boy’s shoulder, opened his mouth countless times to say his name, however the one he managed to say it came out so hushed and breathlessly that Mark was sure no one could hear, not even himself. The clock ticked almost mockingly on the wall, reminding him his time was dwindling. His father was probably waiting for him downstairs by now, setting down breakfast as gleefully as he always did and waiting patiently in his seat, wondering where his son and their guest were. He could imagine it now. And he didn’t want him to come looking for him, no, that was the last thing he wanted. So why was he waiting?

 

He opened his mouth, sucking in air audibly as he prepared himself. Just  _ speak,  _ he almost yelled, and just as he was about to, the boy lurched upward, causing Mark to nearly jump back in fright. He had done it so suddenly, his heart began to race within his chest. He let out his breath, to loudly he now regretted, and Donghyuck flinched back around to face him, looking equally as shocked as he had been. And that was how he woke up.

 

Donghyuck had only just woken when he heard someone sigh behind him, and he quickly became frightened, to say the least. Who was spying on him as he slept? Was it a dream, was he back in his cell with Dr. Frederick leaning over him, there every time he woke? He jolted around as soon as his ears heard the sound, his heart beating against his ribs as he did. However it was nothing, only the boy looking at him like he was some sort of alien creature he had never seen before. He caught his eyes for a moment, only for a moment, before Mark had looked away, his ears becoming visibly red as he did.

 

What had he been doing in here? Donghyuck was puzzled, to say the least, however he soon put the pieces together. It was early morning, and he had overheard a few of the words he and his father had exchanged the day before, while they were in his office and he was outside, laughing to himself as they thought he couldn’t hear them.

 

School. Mark’s school, that’s where he was going today. As if they hadn’t put him through enough agony with the visitors yesterday.  _ Yesterday.  _ His mind immediately flashed back towards Renjun, the woman. Her words. He turned back towards the wall, casting his eyes downwards as the unpleasant thoughts returned. He was going to school, and Rejun was off somewhere suffering like that. He felt disgusted. All the hate, all the anguish, it all came back. It seemed he couldn’t breathe a moment anymore without those feelings accompanying him everywhere. 

 

“Here,” Mark broke the silence, catching Donghyuck’s ears. He turned his head only this time, not wanting to give him his full attention. He had laid out a uniform at the foot of his bed, having then stepped back towards the door frame. “I’ll- I’ll come back for you in a few minutes. Breakfast is downstairs, then-” Mark was truly terrible with words, Donghyuck came to know. The boy stuttered so much, and when he didn’t it was probably because he wasn’t even talking in the first place. “Then we’ll leave. Yeah.”

 

Donghyuck nodded his head, turning his head back around as Mark shut the door, the familiar click ringing through the room. He then sighed, flopping back down onto the bed and facing the ceiling. He didn’t care about school, he truly didn’t. The only education he received had been when he was at the orphanage, when his teachers forced him to attend simple classes to learn to read and write and solve problems. That had been five years ago. What use was it to him now?

 

Donghyuck picked up the uniform’s shirt by the shoulders, studying it as it unfolded before him. It was fancy enough- white with a blue collar, cuffed short sleeves and a small emblem over the heart that Donghyuck could only assume was the symbol of Mark’s school. He hated it. He didn't want to put it on, he didn't want to look like one of them.

 

But he had to. Thankfully there was no giant mirror in his room like there was Mark's, however he still disgusted with himself even if he couldn't see.

 

Mark came to retrieve him shortly after he had placed himself back on the bed, facing the wall once more so he didn't have to see Mark's face when he entered. And then they went to the second floor, had breakfast, with Mark and his father making small talk the way they had before. Donghyuck sat in silence. And then he was in a car, in the backseat gazing out the window as countless buildings and people went by too quickly to comprehend. He felt like he was floating, just grazing at existence. He hoped the day would pass by like that, mindlessly, carelessly. 

 

Until he spotted something familiar. First came the smell, the entrancing aroma that filled the car as it breathed in through the open windows. Familiar. Donghyuck jolted upwards, snapped back into real time. They passed it unknowingly, though Mark pointed it out as if the universe was sending Donghyuck a sign.

 

The bakery. He had only caught glimpses of it those nights ago, however he knew it was the exact one after his eyes traced over the same alley he had hidden in, crammed in behind the trash bin. And for a moment he didn’t comprehend what it meant, and Mark’s conversation with his father was only white noise in the background, until he felt a surge of hope as his mind wrapped itself around his findings.

 

If the bakery was here, that meant he was in the same district as the irregularity. Suddenly he forced himself to listen to what Mark was saying, hoping he could pick up anything, anything at all, something that could aid him, however they had already moved onto the next subject. Letting out a small sigh, he leaned back into his seat, disappointed in himself that he hadn’t paid more attention. He could only hope they passed the bakery once more on their ride home, hope his mind could map out the way. If he could get there, he could trace his steps that night. He could find the irregularity. His heart nearly broke out of his chest at the thought, and he had never felt more hopeful. It was something, it was something.

 

But he soon became preoccupied with the task at hand. The car came to a slow stop on the curb, with what Donghyuck could only assume was the school looming before them and masses of students gathered in the courtyard before it. Rigid he sat, not wanting to move. He so, so desperately did not want to go. He saw them, saw the way the students smiled and laughed and acted as if everything were right. It wasn’t right. Nothing was right.

 

And then Mark had opened his door, beckoning him out. His eyes, they were almost pleading. Pleading to  _ him,  _ as if Mark were the victim. Donghyuck supposed that’s what he really thought, that he was the victim, that he was the one suffering because he was the one who was forced to stand beside an Imperfect, someone from the outside. If only he knew.

 

No thoughts would ever prevent him from having to comply, however, and so he did. Reluctantly, he did. And as Donghyuck set his feet on the smooth concrete of the sidewalk, he pretended he didn’t notice the whole flock of students turn their hawk-like eyes to him.


End file.
